Catacombs of the Heart
by CrazyAuntC
Summary: A murder investigation forces Harm and Mac to investigate their own relationship.
1. Chapter 1

Title: Catacombs of the Heart

Rating: M (language, violence, sexual references/situations)

Spoilers: Lots of them! Anything up to and including "A Tangled Webb (1)." Okay, a very minor one for "Secret Agent Man," you'll know it when you see it if you've seen the episode. And I guess I kind of borrowed from "A Tangled Webb (2)," but it was only a line, or an idea for a line, not really a spoiler. Oh, yeah, Tiner is at OCS and Coates has taken his place. But otherwise, Season Nine does not take place here.

Summary: A murder investigation forces Harm and Mac to investigate their own relationship. Kind of vague, huh? Guess you'll just have to read it!

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters and people in this. I can't afford to own them and still pay the actors what they are currently making. DPB, Paramount Pictures, Belisarius Productions, and CBS Television can pay them, though. But if they were willing to sell them for a really cheap price, and everybody was willing to take a very steep pay cut, I'd be happy to own them! I'd put them to good use, I promise. Oh, any characters you haven't heard of prior to this story, I did make them up and I do own them. They don't get paid 'cause I can be mean like that to them!

Feedback: Would be much appreciated.

AN1: This is an old story I dusted off when I recently got my old laptop up and running. I have left it pretty much intact from how it was written about 12 years ago, other than a few spelling corrections. It was once posted somewhere else, but heck if I can remember where. I think this AN is about it for anything new.

AN2: Catacombs is a real club in Washington, D.C. I do not remember which restaurant supported it, and I certainly couldn't find it again, but it does exist. I have been there, a few years ago, and it really was a very interesting experience, not something I regret or will ever forget. I mean no offense to people of the Gothic sub-culture in this story. I only use the club and the lifestyle as a setting.

AN3: There are few semi-violent scenes in this and some mentioning of domestic abuse, but it is not explicit nor do I go into much detail (the violence is not where this story gets it's M rating). I think I saw more violence in my high school than I really go into detail about here. I will, however, in the beginning of the parts to which this applies, make a note of it. But, if this sort of thing really bugs you, I suggest you don't read this.

xxxxx

JAG Headquarters  
Falls Church, Virginia  
Monday, September 15, 2003  
0913 Hours (local)

"Commander, Colonel, take a seat," Admiral Chegwidden stated. Both officers followed his instruction. "Have either of you ever heard of Catacombs?"

"I've heard of the catacombs in Rome, but that isn't what you are talking about, is it?" Harm quipped.

"No, Commander. I was referring to a club in D.C. A Gothic dance club."

"A 'Gothic dance club,' Sir?" Mac asked.

"Catacombs is a club that is only open on Thursday and Saturday nights in the basement of the Autumn Harvest Restaurant. People of the Gothic sub-culture frequent it, typically dressed in black clothes and such."

"The people little AJ calls scary when he sees them in the mall, in other words," Mac exclaimed, suddenly understanding what the Admiral meant by Gothic sub-culture.

"Oh, those people," Harm said, following Mac's lead.

"Yes, those people. The club has been active for years and there has never been a problem before. Most of the people who attend the club have a mutual respect for each other as members of their sub-culture. Occasionally fights break out, usually between these so-called Goths and those outside their sub-culture who offend them in some manner. That doesn't appear to be the case this time." The Admiral handed Harm a folder. "This appears to be cold-blooded murder."

Harm opened the folder and Mac leaned over the arm of her chair to look. One side of the file contained information on a Seaman Caitlin Johnson. There was a photo of her; she had short, chin-length blonde hair, hazel eyes, and a beautiful smile. The other side had a very short page with a write up of a Seaman Cynthia Ellis. There was no picture and only a small amount of information. Both officers returned their gazes to the Admiral, intending to look over the material in more detail shortly.

The Admiral continued. "Seaman Johnson was home on leave from the Theodore Roosevelt. Her body was found in the corner of the Catacombs club at 0225 Sunday morning."

Harm flipped to the next page, which contained a write-up of the crime scene, courtesy of the D.C. Police. A few photos were included. The Seaman was dressed in a short, black skirt and had black make-up smeared about her face, including her lipstick. Her throat had been slit and her clothes were soaked with blood.

"Oh my God," Mac gasped. "She was, what, 19? That is horrible."

"D.C. Police are investigating this, but I want you two to follow along. This is the second time the death of a Seaman has occurred at Catacombs in the last four months. The fact that both females were in the Navy prompted the police to contact us. Work diplomatically and play nice with them. You'll want to contact a Detective West to get a copy of their material from the first murder, a Seaman Ellis, and additional information on Seaman Johnson's."

"Admiral, why isn't NCIS handling this?" Harm asked.

"They weren't interested. They turned it over to us."

Harm nodded. "Interesting."

The Admiral nodded as well. "I would think you would be happy to stay away from NCIS, Commander," he said with a smile.

Harm smiled in response, "I am, Sir. I'd like to stay far away from them."

Mac watched the whole exchange with a smile on her face as well.

"Any suspects or witnesses?" Harm asked, getting back on topic, as he closed the folder.

"As of yet, no. The murder apparently took place while the club was open, so anyone who went to the club Saturday night could be responsible or have witnessed it. Nobody has stepped forward with any information. Because this sort of thing has never occurred before, other than Seaman Ellis, and the club is not a frequent hangout for Navy personnel, the D.C. investigators believe the fact that both Ellis and Johnson were in the Navy played a role."

Mac asked, "Any connections between the two?"

"Other than both were female and enlisted in the Navy, none have been located. Seamen Ellis was 21, an African-American, had one year of college done, and from Towson, Maryland. Seaman Johnson was 19, Caucasian, no schooling after high school, and from Chantilly, Virginia. Neither ever served on the same ship and it appears that they have had no contact with each other."

"We'll get right on it," Mac said.

"Good," the Admiral responded. "That's it for now. Dismissed," the Admiral ordered. Both officers rose, snapped to attention, and left the office.

xxxxx

D.C. Police Station  
Washington, D.C.  
Monday, September 15, 2003  
1137 Hours (local)

Harm approached the central desk, Mac at his side.

The harried looking officer looked at the military personnel standing before him. "Can I help you?"

"Yes," Harm answered, "I'm Commander Harmon Rabb and this is Lieutenant Colonel Sarah MacKenzie from the JAG Corps. We're here to speak to a Detective West."

The man nodded. "Down that hallway, third door on your left."

"Thanks," Harm said, but the man had already turned to another nearby woman.

"Nice guy," Mac said to Harm.

"He's just busy," Harm said, defending him. They reached the office the man had indicated and Harm knocked on the doorframe. The door was open and a woman was bent over the keyboard of her computer. Her blonde hair was tied back into a French braid and her mouth formed a definite frown. She looked up at the pair, her blue eyes troubled. "We were looking for Detective West?" Harm questioned.

The woman smiled, revealing her even, white teeth. Her blue eyes cleared and showed a sparkle as she studied the pair in front of her. "Are you here from the JAG office?" she asked. Her voice was smooth and soft.

Harm smiled broadly and extended his hand. She rose to her feet to accept his hand. "Commander Rabb," Harm said, introducing himself. She held on to his hand longer than was necessary.

Mac stuck her hand out, "Colonel MacKenzie."

"Pleased to meet you both," Detective West said as she released Mac's hand. She turned her eyes back to Harm, widening her smile just a little more. "I assume you have been briefed on the case?"

"Yes," Mac said. "We were briefed on it by our CO."

"So, what do you know?" West asked.

"Just-" Mac began, but Harm cut her off.

"Seaman Johnson's body was found early Sunday morning in a club called Catacombs. This is the second of such occurrences to take place in the last four months at this club. Prior to this, there have been no problems."

West nodded as she sat back down at her desk. "Have a seat," she said. Harm and Mac did as she instructed, Harm dragging a chair out of the corner of the small office for himself. The detective leaned over and pulled a file off the corner of the desk and handed it to Harm. Mac once again looked over his arm at the case information. Inside the file were more photos of the crime scene and the club in general. Under the small pile of photos was a more detailed report and the preliminary autopsy report. "That information goes more in depth than the report we sent to you. We only requested your assistance and we weren't sure you would cooperate, so we didn't want to let out too many details."

"Understandable," Harm said with a smile.

West returned his smile in kind. She handed him another file.

At this point, Mac frowned. Her back was getting tired of leaning over and she was getting tired of Harm getting all the attention. "Can I see this one?" Mac asked, indicating the file on Seaman Johnson. Harm surrendered it to her without looking up. Mac grabbed the file and straightened, muttering, "Thanks."

Harm opened the second file West had handed him and looked over the information in it. "That is the original report on Seaman Ellis," West explained. Harm quickly looked over the report, noticing that she had been serving on the USS Porter, a destroyer. Johnson had been serving on a carrier. West gave them a minute to look over the files. When Harm looked up and met her gaze, she continued, "I assume you will want to view the crime scene?"

"Yes," Mac stated. Harm turned to look at her as if he had forgotten that she was there. "Whenever is convenient for you."

West looked at her watch. "How about now?"

"Now is fine," Mac said simply, looking to Harm for his agreement.

Harm nodded, smiling.

West rose from her desk and stepped around it as both Harm and Mac got to their feet. "Well then, shall we?" she smiled up at Harm. She was about five foot six and had to look up to view Harm's face. He smiled and stepped out of the office in front of her. West followed, leaving Mac to bring up the rear.

xxxxx

The Autumn Harvest Restaurant  
Washington, D.C.  
Monday, September 15, 2003  
1213 Hours (local)

A man, Mr. Stevenson, led Harm, Mac, and Detective West into the basement of The Autumn Harvest Restaurant to where the Catacombs club was hosted twice a week. Fluorescent lights across the ceiling lit the interior, although the brick walls appeared to be lined with electric candles. The entire room formed a large L-shape and from the stairs, the entire club could be seen. To the left of the stairs was a bar, and green tubing around the mirror behind the bar indicated some other type of lighting. Tables were spread out in the vicinity of the bar, chairs pulled up on top of them. Slightly to the right and in front of the stairs was a large open area, with several monstrous speakers placed in the corners. In the far corner, yellow crime-scene tape roped off the area. Detective West led them to this.

"This is where the body was found," West stated simply.

One of the monstrous speakers was directly in the corner. On the floor next to the speaker were chalk marks indicating the body and the general area of the blood. There were more white marks on the wall and the side of the speaker.

"As you can see," West began, "they've already cleaned it up, looked for evidence."

"We would like to have the club opened as normal on Thursday," Stevenson said over their shoulders.

"How dark is it in here when the club is open?" Mac asked.

"Pretty dark. We do have a strobe light over the dance floor, but it doesn't provide much light. And the candles on the wall are turned on, but they aren't very bright."

"What about the noise?" Harm asked.

"It is pretty loud. Most of us that work here when the club is open wear earplugs. But it doesn't bother the crowds. They enjoy it."

Mac looked at the speaker. Judging by the chalk outlines, the murder took place right up on the wall, next to the speaker. "If the music were on and this place were full, do you think it would be possible for someone to stand next to the speaker and scream at the top of their lungs and not be heard?" she asked.

"It's possible," Stevenson nodded. "Especially with the type of music that is played. Occasionally screams are a part of the background noise in the music."

"Hmm…" Mac responded.

"Who discovered the body?" Harm asked.

"I did," Stevenson answered. "I was at the back of the crowd, ushering people out. At closing time, we stop the music and turn these lights on," he said, looking up at the fluorescents. "Usually Josh Redman, our bartender, gets up and tells everybody to get out, and I go to the back of the crowd to urge people along. I noticed the young woman on the ground out of the corner of my eye. I assumed she was drunk and had passed out, as occasionally happens. When she didn't move after a few minutes, I looked more closely and noticed the blood. Even with all the white make-up people wear here, I knew she was dead."

"And what did you do?" Harm asked.

"I got people out of there. I acted like nothing was wrong, let people think she was just passed out. Every once in a while we do call an ambulance and have people taken away to the hospital. Usually Josh is pretty good about limiting the alcohol he gives out to the same person. He's great at judging a person's condition, but he can't tell if someone is getting a drink for someone else, usually for a girl. Once everyone was out, I notified Josh, we called the police, and didn't even clean anything up."

Harm and Mac walked around the club with Denise. There wasn't a whole lot of room for someone to hide and if the club was full, it would be difficult to drag or carry someone through it. And because of the blood marks scattered around the area where the body was found, it was very likely that the murder occurred where the body was found.

"Was the club full on Saturday?" Mac asked Stevenson suddenly.

"It was a normal crowd. On a normal night, this place is pretty full. You can walk around and dance, but there isn't enough space to lie down on the floor and take a nap."

Mac nodded.

"You seen enough?" West asked.

Harm and Mac both nodded.

"Thanks for your time," Harm said as he headed up the stairs.

Mac nodded as well.

West paused and handed him a card. "If you think of anything else that might be helpful, please call me," she said.

"I will," Stevenson nodded.

xxxxx

En route to JAG  
Monday, September 15, 2003  
1328 Hours (local)

"So, what do you think, Mac?" Harm asked as he navigated the Navy-issue vehicle out of D.C.

"There's not a lot to go on, but my gut tells me to follow it. They've never had a murder, or any problem, at the club before. When two happen, both women are in the Navy, I don't think that's just a coincidence."

"But the murders were four months apart. We're lucky the D.C. Police even noticed it."

"That's only because Detective West worked on Ellis's murder as well. She remembered it."

"She's good, Mac. I can't even remember cases from four months ago," Harm glanced at her, offering her a lopsided grin.

Mac looked away and gazed out the window at the passing scenery instead, sighing heavily.

Harm thought back to where he was four months ago. Four months ago he was in the jungles of Paraguay with Mac, destroying stinger missiles. After they made their way out of the jungle, they managed to track down Gunny and Webb. Webb had survived, barely. The CIA paid Webb and Gunny's way home and the military gave Mac a ride home, but without a job, no passport, and no identifying papers, he was pretty much stuck. Mac didn't know about his resignation from the Navy until he had no way home. She offered to send him the money once she got home, but Harm couldn't do that, and without papers, it wouldn't have helped anyway. He had spoken to Catherine Gale, unsure of what to do. She pulled some strings at the Agency and Harm came home on the Agency's dime as well. Once back, he was instructed by the Admiral to report for duty the day after his plane touched down. Harm did as instructed and the Admiral let him back into the ranks, minus a significant amount of leave time. Had he not returned when he did, the Admiral would have processed the paperwork and he would have been a civilian. And since then, Harm had gotten stuck with a lot of paperwork and bum cases.

Mac had been silent while Harm was lost in his thoughts. "Harm?" she asked.

"Yeah?"

"What do you think of the case?"

"I agree with you, Mac. I've got to say that the two murders are related. It's too much of a coincidence. However, with four months between the murders, it isn't going to be easy to find whoever is responsible, and even to link these cases in court without more evidence."

"True."

"I want to spend more time going over the files, see if anything else lines up. Detective West appears to have done a thorough job with the reports."

"She's supposed to do a thorough job. She's a detective," Mac said curtly, turning away from him again.

"You okay?" Harm asked, concerned.

"Yes, fine."

"You don't seem to like her much."

"I don't dislike her. She's good at her job."

"So, what's the problem?"

"There is no problem," she said firmly.

"If you say so," he said, deciding to back off. When she didn't want to talk, she wouldn't talk, and wild horses couldn't drag it out of her.

They returned to JAG in silence.


	2. Chapter 2

JAG Headquarters  
Falls Church, Virginia  
Thursday, September 18, 2003  
1046 Hours (local)

"Commander Rabb," Harm said as he answered the phone.

"Commander, this is Detective West."

"Detective, I wasn't expecting to hear from you. And please, call me Harm."

"Okay, Harm. Call me Denise."

"Well, Denise, to what to I owe the pleasure of your call this morning?"

"I have Seaman Johnson's autopsy report."

"Anything interesting in it?"

"Nothing remarkable. No drugs, some alcohol, she was killed by the knife wound on her throat. She bled to death."

"Ugh… That's not pleasant."

"No. It was probably a pretty slow death, too. Her larynx was cut through. She couldn't make a sound."

"That's horrible," Harm said, sighing heavily. That was a terrible way to go. "I've taken a look at her military record and in her brief career she has received excellent remarks."

"And Seaman Ellis?"

"Same thing. Ellis also had a clean record."

On the other end of the line, Denise sighed. "Harm, do you honestly think these two murders are related?"

"I think it is too much of a coincidence to not be related. Have any other murders similar to this occurred in other clubs in the area in recent months?"

"Aside from the normal threats and fights, nothing."

Harm echoed Denise's previous sigh. "So, I guess basically, we don't have much to go on?"

"No. The murders were four months apart, the only apparent relationship between the two is that both women were in the Navy and tended to go towards this lifestyle. The bouncers at the club don't take names; they only remember the regulars. There were no witnesses at either murder and we have no suspects. There's not a lot to go on."

"Don't sound so defeated," Harm teased.

"Oh, I'm not out of this one yet."

"That's the attitude," Harm encouraged in a teasing tone. "Have you spoken to the Colonel yet?"

"No, I called you first."

"She's in court right now. She'll probably be there most of the day. I'll give her an update when I see her."

"And the autopsy report?"

"Can you fax it to me?"

"Yes, I can, but don't you need an original copy for your file?"

"It is preferred…" Harm trailed off.

"I've also got a copy of the tape recorded during the autopsy for you."

"You can't fax that."

"Not unless they just changed the way the machines work."

"Can I come up and get it later today?"

"Sure. About what time can I expect you?"

Harm thought for a moment. "How late do you work?"

"Sometimes all night."

"I'll be by around six. You're on my way home."

"Sounds good. I'll be here."

"I'll see you there," Harm said with a smile he knew she couldn't see.

He couldn't see the smile she had on her end of the phone either. "I'll see you later then, Harm."

"Bye, Denise."

xxxxx

Olde Towne Grille  
Washington, D.C.  
Thursday, September 18, 2003  
2037 Hours (local)

"So, tell me what you think about this idea, Harm," Denise began.

"Okay," Harm said. He had met Denise at her office and she had given him an official copy of the autopsy report. They had looked over the report and discussed the case before listening to the tape. There wasn't much more on the tape than there was on the paper. Afterwards, they had decided to go out and grab a bite to eat before parting ways. They had shared a few drinks and a meal as they had gotten to know each other. Denise had grown up in the area and had always loved helping people, so after college, she decided to join the police force. She had a knack for figuring things out, paying attention to the details, so she took some courses and became a detective on the force. Harm had told her about his duties at JAG and some of his adventures.

"Well, neither of us has really been to a place like Catacombs before. We've heard and read the descriptions of it, but I know that sometimes you have to actually be there to understand it. So, I was thinking that on Saturday, we go in and check it out. We can try and blend in as much as possible for us old folks, but just check it out and get a feel for it."

Harm pondered it for a moment. She had a point. They had looked at the crime scene and heard descriptions of the place, but they really didn't _know_ what it was like. "You've thought a lot about this, haven't you?"

"The idea popped in my head back at the Station, so I've been thinking about it while I was listening to you babble on," she said with a grin, teasing him.

"I see…" Harm responded with a grin as well. "You don't care at all about what I have to say."

"Nope," Denise said, her grin widening.

"Well, in that case, does it matter whether or not I agree with you?"

"Not really, since I've already decided that you'll be coming with me."

"Okay. I'll ask Mac about it tomorrow."

"No, don't," Denise said, suddenly serious.

"Why not? She's a part of this investigation."

Denise sighed and leaned back slightly in her seat. "Yeah, she is, but we would be less conspicuous if we went as a couple as opposed to a threesome."

Harm didn't like leaving Mac out. She was as much a part of this investigation as he was. And she would get angry if he shut her out and that's the last thing he wanted: a pissed off Marine. "I can't just shut her out. I have to give her the chance."

"We can tell her that it was a spur of the moment decision."

"A spur of the moment decision?"

"Yeah. I call you Saturday night, looking for something to do, we agree to go check out this club, see what its like, and include the information in the investigation."

"And after you call me and make these plans, how am I supposed to not call Mac?"

"It slips your mind, you thought she might have had plans, you couldn't get a hold of her…" Denise trailed off.

"It wouldn't work. Mac knows I wouldn't just forget about her on an investigation, I know she probably won't have plans, and I can always get in touch with her."

"Okay…" Denise trailed off again, thinking. "I guess you could just ask her, but tell her that a group of two would look more natural and balanced than a group of three," she said, giving up on not telling Mac. It was obvious that Harm wasn't going to go behind her back.

Harm sighed. He really didn't want to push Mac out of this, but Denise seemed determined to get him to go. "I'll talk to her."

XXXXX

JAG Headquarters  
Falls Church, Virginia  
Friday, September 19, 2003  
1523 Hours (local)

"Hey, Mac," Harm said as he knocked lightly on her doorframe.

"Hey," she said, smiling brightly.

"You got a minute?"

Mac's smile faded slightly as she responded, "Yeah. Come on in."

Harm entered her office and took a seat in a chair opposite her desk. He had updated Mac on the murder case earlier that morning, but he hadn't mentioned Denise's plan. "Are you doing anything tomorrow night?"

Mac studied him carefully, unsure of what to make of his question. "No. Why?"

Harm winced internally. It shouldn't be this hard. "Well, Denise and I were talking last night-"

Mac interrupted him. "Who's Denise?"

"Sorry, Detective West. She and I were talking last night and we decided that since we don't have much to go on in the murder case, that we would check the club out ourselves while it was in action."

"You mean go in undercover?"

"Basically. And we thought we'd do that tomorrow night."

"Without discussing it with me?" Mac sighed.

"That's what I am doing. I mean, Denise and I are going to go and the question was whether or not you would join us."

Mac regarded Harm for a moment before answering. "You know what, since I wasn't included in this discussion, nor have I been included in a lot of this investigation, just go. I'm not sure I want to be included in this part, either," Mac said, irritated, as she returned to the case file in front of her.

"Mac, I didn't want to exclude you. I'm informing you now and asking if you want to join us."

Mac looked back up at him. "You didn't tell me this morning when you updated me. You didn't inform me last night that you were stopping by to see Detective West, oh, sorry, Denise, I haven't been given any information first-hand and I have to work in order to look at it. I don't really think I'm wanted tomorrow night."

"That's not true," Harm insisted.

"Go, Harm, have fun and I hope you learn a lot."

"Mac, come with us," Harm said. He didn't want her to be mad at him.

Suddenly Mac smiled. "Come to think of it, Harm, I do have plans tomorrow night."

"You do?" Harm was puzzled.

"Yeah. I have a date with a good book, my bathtub, and my bed. I'm really looking forward to it, so I'd hate to change my plans. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm trying to work here." Mac looked back down at the case in front of her. She began reading where she left off, making small notes to herself on a legal pad.

Harm knew he had been dismissed, so he rose to his feet and walked out of Mac's office, his heart heavy with guilt.

xxxxx

Mac's Apartment  
Washington, D.C.  
Saturday, September 20, 2003  
2017 Hours (local)

Mac sighed as the phone rang. She knew it was Harm. He would be the only person able to time it so that he called right after she got settled in the bathtub, bubbles up to her neck and book in her hand. She dropped her book on the floor and rose out of the tub. Normally, she wouldn't answer it, but she was feeling generous. Wrapping her towel around herself, she padded out of the bathroom and into the bedroom. Grabbing the portable off the nightstand, she answered, "MacKenzie."

"Mac."

She was right; it was Harm. "Hey, Harm."

"Did I interrupt you?"

"I just got into the tub."

"Oh. I didn't mean to."

"I know. So, what's up?"

"I just wanted to ask you if you wanted to come with Denise and I tonight."

"We went over this yesterday, Harm. I'm not interested."

"You sure?"

"Yes. Besides, I'd feel like a fifth wheel."

"Why?"

Mac rolled her eyes. Away from the office and Harm's face, it was easier to say things. "Because I think Detective West is only interested in having you out tonight. I think she just wants to get you alone, without me."

"You do?"

"I do."

"What makes you think that?"

"Please, Harm, don't act like you don't know. She was interested in you when we met. She spent more time talking to you, she gave all the information over to you, she called you, she wanted you to come pick the information up, and she invited you out to dinner. I don't think she's looked at me since we shook hands."

"I'm sure that's not true," Harm insisted.

"Yeah, you go on believing that," Mac scoffed. "You are always oblivious to these things."

"Where is this coming from, Mac?"

"Never mind. It's just what I think. Don't mind me."

"No, I want to know what you think. And I want you to come with us tonight."

Mac shook her head and smiled sadly into the phone. "I don't think so, Harm. I wouldn't be comfortable. You go, have a good time, and tell me about it on Monday."

Harm sighed. "Okay, Mac. I just wanted to give you a chance. Call me if you change your mind, okay?"

"I won't change my mind. But, thank you."

"You take it easy tonight."

"You, too." Mac paused for a moment before she continued. "Hey, Harm?"

"Yeah?"

"Be careful, okay?"

"I will. I'll see you Monday."

"See you Monday," Mac echoed as she hung up the phone. She walked back into the bathroom and climbed back into the tub. The water was still warm, but she would probably have to refresh it in a little while.


	3. Chapter 3

Denise's Apartment  
Washington, D.C.  
Saturday, September 20, 2003  
2333 Hours (local)

Harm knocked on the door to Denise's apartment. She had called him earlier with directions and it hadn't been that hard to find. She was only about twenty minutes away from him, within walking distance of Mac's apartment. They had discussed what time they would meet and what they would be wearing. Harm was dressed in black jeans and a black, button-down shirt and couldn't decide if he felt like an idiot or a thief.

A few seconds after his knock, Denise opened the door. "Come in," she said with a smile on her face.

Harm followed her in and couldn't take his eyes off her. She was wearing a tight, black dress that came to mid-thigh and had thin straps on her shoulders. She had a sheer, black, button-down top over the dress. The dress was low-cut in the front, revealing a little bit of cleavage and even lower in the back, revealing a vast expanse of naturally tan skin. Her eyes were lined with black and her lips were painted a matte purple. Her blonde hair was loose and free, hanging over her shoulders, and was slightly wavy. She was, in Harm's opinion, a gorgeous woman.

Denise, meanwhile, eyed Harm up and down as he entered. Even dressed in solid black, he was very sexy man. "You look good," she offered.

"And you look amazing," he said, smiling, as he took her hand and kissed the back of it.

Denise blushed. "Thanks. I wasn't really sure of what to wear, other than all black. Do you think this is okay?"

"I wasn't sure of what to wear either. But I think you could wear a potato sack and look good."

Denise blushed again, "Thanks."

"So, you ready to go?" Harm asked.

"You got pockets in those pants?"

"Yes," Harm said, giving her a puzzled look.

"Could you hold on to my license and money? I just don't want to take my purse."

"Oh, sure," Harm agreed.

Denise reached over to the small table by the door and grabbed her license and a few bills. She handed them over to Harm. "Thanks."

"No problem."

Denise grabbed her apartment key as they stepped out into the hallway. She pulled the door shut behind her and locked the door. Looking at the key, she smiled back up at Harm. "And my key?"

He laughed lightly. "Yes," he said as he took the key from Denise's palm.

Denise hooked her arm through his and led him out of the building.

xxxxx

Catacombs  
Washington, D.C.  
Sunday, September 21, 2003  
0004 Hours (local)

After passing the bouncers, who scrutinized the pair somewhat more carefully than they did the rest, Harm and Denise followed the rest of the crowd, and the noise, down the stairs and into the darkness. The music was unfamiliar to both Harm and Denise, the bass in it heavy, and any words were indistinct. The tone of the music was heavy and dark. Once at the bottom of the steps, both Harm and Denise paused to inspect the group that populated the club. It looked very different from its appearance earlier in the week.

Directly opposite the pair and about fifteen feet away was a closed door. Occasionally people wandered through the door and harsh yellow light spilled out. To the right of the door was a large open space that constituted a dance floor. There were chairs set up around the edges and people sat in them, watching the dancers. Speakers were set up near the corners on the far wall. It was up against the speaker farthest away from where Harm and Denise now stood that the bodies of Seaman Johnson and Seaman Ellis had been found.

To the left of where Harm and Denise stood and slightly behind them, was the bar, a throng of people clustered in front of it. The bar was backlit with a neon-green light. In front of the bar and extending to the far wall to the left of Harm and Denise were numerous tables. Only a few were occupied. Harm gestured to the farthest, and the quietest of these, in the back corner.

Denise nodded and followed Harm willingly, clutching his hand as they weaved their way through the crowd. Denise sat down at the table in the corner, sliding into the bench seat. Harm sat down next to her, on the outside.

Neither had known what to expect, but whatever it was, this wasn't it. The clientele of the group was widely varied. While many were dressed in black, a few weren't. One girl on the dance floor was wearing a short, white, fuzzy top that bared her midriff, complete with a tattoo of a fairy. In the light from the rapidly blinking strobe and the black-light candles on the walls, the sweater appeared to be a pale shade of purple. Another guy was walking around wearing something that looked like chain mail straight out of the medieval era over his shirt. One girl was walking around with bright pink spiked hair and another was wearing a pair of blue fairy wings. Everywhere was exposed bellybuttons, bare backs, and short skirts. And the couple in the corner opposite Harm and Denise, sharing the same bench seat, was making out, if not more. The girl was straddling the guy, her skirt pulled up high, revealing smooth, pale, thighs. One of the guy's hands was holding the back of her head, the other was playing with her breast over her sheer top. Every once in a while, Harm could catch a glimpse of tongue.

For a long time, Harm and Denise could only watch the crowd around them, mesmerized by the dancers and enthralled with the different types of people. Harm glanced at Denise and noticed her amazement with their surroundings as well. There was something else about this place, something that wasn't there in the daylight, something that couldn't be seen, only felt. And it was so thick, Harm could taste it. By the look on Denise's face, she could, too. The couple in the corner, either making out or having sex, said it all. This place oozed sex.

Denise looked up at him and smiled. Harm stole a glance at the couple across from them. The girl's head was thrown back and the guy was feasting on her neck. "You want to go sit by the dance floor, get a closer look?" Harm asked.

"Sure," she agreed. "We can keep an eye on the corner, just in case anything happens."

"That's what I was thinking," Harm smiled as he slid out of the seat ahead of Denise. They paused for a moment and Harm led the way to the chairs by the dance floor, finding two empty ones and pulling one out for Denise. She took a seat and Harm sat beside her. For many long minutes, they were both fascinated by the dancers, watching them with rapt attention. Some danced by themselves, making up the movements as they went along. Others danced in pairs, some closely mimicking the motions of sex. Even with the constant flickering of the strobe light, all the dancers seemed to move with one fluid motion. And in the corner where the murders had occurred, there was almost always a pair of people dancing very closely or making out. The corner was apparently popular for such activities, most likely because it was dark and somewhat secluded.

Harm stole occasional glances at Denise, unaware of the fact that she was doing the same. The environment was getting to him. It was full of sexual energy: the clothes, the dancing, the darkness, the people. He glanced down at her again, this time meeting her gaze.

"You tired of this?" she asked.

"I feel like I've been sitting here for hours. We should get up and… move."

Denise smiled and rose to her feet, extending her hand to him. He rose to his feet and Denise pulled him close to her. She looked up at him and noticed the quickness in his breath. It matched her own. "Harm."

He reached up and stroked her hair. It was smooth and silky beneath his fingers, slipping through them like liquid gold. She slowly licked her lips and it was all Harm could take. He leaned low and gently touched his lips to hers. Like her hair, they were silken. He could smell her scent, light and modern, something with an edge. She pressed her body up against his, wrapped her arms around his shoulders and pulled him closer. He responded in kind, pressing his body close to hers.

Pulling back, she turned to lead him away to the back of the club. The couple that had been making out was gone. Probably on their way home to a place a little quieter, a little more private, with a softer place to lie. Looking at the woman in front of him, he envied them. Denise slid into the seat in front of him. The moment he was seated, she was back in his arms, her lips pressed against his. Slowly, he slid his tongue into her mouth, his action imitating what he wanted to do with lower parts of their bodies.

For long minutes, their bodies were intertwined, their mouths exploring. They were no longer watching the people around them, no longer interested in their surroundings. They had become that couple making out in the corner.

Neither of them noticed the woman who descended the steps into the club, looking around the room, searching for someone. She was dressed in a lightweight, flowing black dress, her skin freshly cleaned and shining in stark contrast to the pale, muted faces around her. She found who she was looking for and saw what she was afraid of.

Neither Harm nor Denise noticed the woman who fled the club, mere minutes after her arrival, her heart broken, tears forming in her eyes.

The only thing they noticed occurred some time later. The music stopped and the harsh fluorescent lights of the basement of the restaurant they were in were turned on. The bartender of the club stood on top of a barstool and yelled, "Okay, it's closing time. You don't have to go home, but you can't stay here." As people slowly started filing out of the room, he added, "Just go home and fuck. You know you want to."

Harm and Denise looked at each other and burst out laughing.

xxxxx

Mac's Apartment  
Washington, D.C.  
Sunday, September 21, 2003  
0243 Hours (local)

Damn it! Why did she have to go there? Why couldn't she just have been content to curl up on her couch with a bowl of popcorn and a good book? Just forget about the two of them out "working" on a Saturday night? Why couldn't she just leave well enough alone?

She should have trusted her instincts. She knew she had been right. She had told Harm that Detective West had wanted to be alone with him. He hadn't believed her, but she had been right.

"Damn it!" she yelled as she threw her glass of water at the wall. It shattered, spilling the water on the wall and the carpet below. The water wasn't enough; she wanted alcohol. She was stronger than that, though. She wouldn't give him that power, that satisfaction. He may have made her angry, he may have broken her heart, but he was not going to knock her off that wagon that she had worked so hard to get on and stay on.

Mac rose to her feet and crossed the room to the fireplace, tears streaming down her face. She had gotten out of the tub and was reading her book on the couch when she decided to take Harm up on his offer and join him and Detective West. She figured they wouldn't be going out until late, so she would call him on his cell phone and let him know she was going to show up. She had called, but it went straight to voice mail, and instead of leaving a message, she had put on her clothes and left, just deciding to find him when she got there. The club wasn't that big, how hard could it be?

She had found him all right. She had found him locked in a passionate embrace with Detective West. It was difficult to tell where one body ended and the other began. She thought they were only kissing, but she wasn't so sure. She had turned and fled the scene, her $10 entrance fee a waste. She had run to her car and climbed in. After locking the doors, she had given in to the tears that had been threatening. When she had calmed enough, she drove home. Once home, she had changed into her pajamas, gotten a glass of water, and sat on her couch, too keyed up to sleep.

Mac gazed at the picture of her and Harm in Afghanistan taken a little over a year prior to now. She picked it up and lovingly stroked his face for what must have been the millionth time since he had given her the picture last Christmas. She had bought a frame for it, just like the one she had given him. Staring at the face of the man she knew so well, the man she loved and, mistakenly, trusted with her heart.

Well, there would be no more of that. He had hurt her for the last time. She thought they had been heading somewhere, getting closer, heading to where she thought they both wanted to go. He had been willing to give up his career for her when she was in Paraguay. They had shared dinners, movies, and nights out. They had regained that lost friendship of so long ago. She had been happy and she thought he had been happy as well. But perhaps she had been wrong.

He wasn't going to know that he had hurt her so badly. If he wanted to be with someone else, who was she to stop him? She had waited for him. "As long as it takes," he had said that night on the Admiral's porch. Well, she had waited for him this time. But he had turned away, turned away to another woman. She didn't know for certain how far he was going to go with West, but she had seen enough. A tear fell out of Mac's eye and landed on the picture in her hands, directly on her face, obscuring the picture. He would never know she was there tonight. He would never know that she had cried over him. He would never know she had been waiting for him, hoping he would let go. She would live her life and be happy with what she did have: a good career, good friends, and lots of comfortable shoes. She didn't need a man, especially Harmon Rabb Jr., to make her a complete and happy person.

Turning, she hurled the picture in its frame across the room after the water glass. It hit the wall and the glass shattered, the wooden frame breaking around it. The photo fell into a pool of water, soaking up the wetness, ruining it forever.

Still hurt and angry, Mac turned the light off in the room, leaving the mess left by the glass and the picture for the morning.

Across town, in a darkened bedroom, an identical picture in an identical frame fell off of a nightstand beside an occupied bed. The glass shattered, one long, continuous crack running through the middle, dividing the two people it depicted in happier times.


	4. Chapter 4

JAG Headquarters  
Falls Church, Virginia  
Monday, September 22, 2003  
0804 Hours (local)

Mac caught sight of Harm as he strolled into the bullpen, a few minutes late as usual. He paused as he passed by Mac's open doorway, briefcase in one hand and his cover in the other. "Morning, Mac," he said with a wide grin.

"Good morning, Harm," Mac said, smiling sweetly. "You have a good weekend?"

"Yeah."

"How was the club?" she asked.

"Let me go put this stuff down and I'll be back," he said.

"Take your time," Mac responded as she turned back to her email.

Harm strode off to his office, set his cover down, opened the briefcase and removed the contents. Setting the briefcase on the floor, he flicked his computer on and headed back to Mac's office.

It was only when he approached her the second time that she noticed his limp. It was very slight, but it was there. "Your foot okay?" she asked.

Harm looked down at his foot. "Yeah. I stepped on some glass yesterday morning from a fallen picture. It went pretty deep and it is still a little sore."

The look Mac gave him could only be described as "funny." "Did you get all the glass out?" she asked, genuinely concerned. She was curious to know what picture had fallen and from where it had fallen, but she wasn't about to ask.

"I cleaned it pretty thoroughly."

"Good. So, tell me about Saturday night," Mac insisted as she leaned back in her chair.

Harm sat in one of the chairs in front of her desk. "To say that it was interesting would be an understatement. You should have been there, Mac."

"Nah. I enjoyed the company of a good book. I didn't need a bunch of strange people to look at."

Harm smiled, "And there were some strange people. People with pink hair, fairy wings, one guy had on what looked like chain mail over his shirt. There was a couple in the corner who was making out, maybe even going further than that."

At this, Mac looked away. He may not be telling her what he did, but he was still talking about it. Bastard!

"The place was pretty full and loud. And dark. Even with the light from the bar and the strobe light, the club was very dark. It would be easy to lose someone in a dark corner. If Johnson and Ellis's killer had them up against the wall like they were dancing or kissing, it would be very easy to stab someone. And that close to the speakers, any sound could very likely either be interpreted as a song or not heard at all."

Mac digested this information. Maybe his going to the club hadn't been a complete waste of time. They had something resembling an idea now on how a murder could take place in a crowded club. "So, it was worth going?"

"I think so."

Mac smiled weakly, unsure of what to say.

"Look, I'll catch up to you later. I've got a sentencing this morning, but maybe after that, you, me, and Denise could go interview Johnson's mom, see if we can learn more than the initial interviews."

Mac glanced down at her calendar. The rest of the day looked clear. "Sure, that sounds good."

"Okay," Harm said as he got to his feet. "I'll give Denise a call and we'll set something up." He walked out the door, giving Mac a smile as he left.

Once he was gone, Mac lowered her head into her hands. This wasn't going to be easy, but she was going to do it. If he wanted someone else, then he could have her. He wasn't going to know that he was breaking her heart. She opened one of the drawers on her desk and drew out a bottle of Advil. It was going to be a long day and she could feel the headache starting already.

xxxxx

JAG Headquarters  
Falls Church, Virginia  
Monday, September 22, 2003  
0827 Hours (local)

After skimming through his emails and listening to his voicemails, Harm was getting ready to call Denise when the phone rang. "Commander Rabb."

"I thought we weren't going to be so formal," the female voice said, laughing.

Harm laughed. "Hey, Denise, I was getting ready to call you."

"I thought my ears were feeling warm!"

"Cute."

"So, why was I going to be graced with a call from such a handsome man?"

"What are you doing later this morning?"

"Well, I was planning on doing some work. I have to earn my keep somehow. Why?"

"Well, I was talking to Mac and if you are free, we thought we'd go out and talk to Mrs. Johnson, see if she can tell us anything new."

Denise shuffled through some papers before she answered. "That sounds good. What time?"

"1130? I have a sentencing this morning after staff call, so it wouldn't be right now."

"Perfect."

"Good. I'll see you then."

"See you later, Harm," Denise said as she hung up the phone.

Harm moved the phone away from his ear and smiled. He had a few minutes before staff call and then he had to be in court. But hopefully, they'd be able to make some progress on the case today.

xxxxx

6743 Oak Street  
Chantilly, Virginia  
Monday, September 22, 2003  
1234 Hours (local)

Harm and Mac had picked Denise up at the station and then headed back out to Chantilly. Denise had ridden in the back, but that hadn't stopped her and Harm from carrying on an animated conversation. Mac just watched the scenery go by outside her window, trying her best to tune them out and keep her heart from hurting. It wasn't easy.

The Johnson house was at the end of a quiet street. The house had cream-colored siding and black shutters and had a few trees in the front yard, some of them large. A porch stretched across the front of the house and was complete with a porch swing at one end. The trio got out of the car and approached the front door. Denise rapped gently on it.

A tall woman with graying hair answered the door. She had probably been slender earlier in her life, but the years had put a few pounds on her frame. "Yes?" she asked.

"Mrs. Johnson?" Denise asked.

She nodded.

Denise flashed her badge. "I'm Detective West and this is Commander Rabb and Lieutenant Colonel MacKenzie from the Judge Advocate General's Office. We are investigating your case and we wanted to speak to you."

Mrs. Johnson shook her head sadly. "I've already spoken to the police. I don't know what else I can tell you."

Harm stepped up and offered the woman his hand. "We are very sorry for your loss, Ma'am. We just wanted to speak to you, hear what you have to say, see if there is anything we can find that may have been missed earlier."

Mac also stepped forward and offered her hand. "We want to find who did this, Ma'am."

Mrs. Johnson's green eyes glistened with tears. "I appreciate this, but I am not sure what more I can tell you."

"May we come in?" Denise asked.

Mrs. Johnson nodded as she answered, "Yes, this way, please." She led them into the entryway and down a hallway with a hardwood floor into the living room. She took a seat in an old, worn, brown recliner. "Have a seat," she gestured.

Harm took a seat on the couch and Mac moved to sit next to him, but Denise was closer, so she took the spot next to him. With an awkward pause, Mac turned and took a seat in an old chair next to the recliner. She pulled a small notebook out of her purse and Denise pulled a tape recorder out of her pocket and asked, "Do you mind?"

Mrs. Johnson shook her head.

"When did your daughter join the Navy?" Denise asked.

"Shortly after her high school graduation last summer. She didn't know what she wanted to do with her life, but she wanted to see the world, so she thought the Navy would provide her with an opportunity to do that, and maybe give her a chance to figure out what she wanted to do."

"And how did you feel about this?" Harm asked.

"I was proud of her. Caitlin was always kind, always wanted to do good. It didn't surprise me that she wanted to serve her country for a few years. After the last few years, I was glad to see her do something good."

Mac asked, "Were the last few years rough?"

"Yes and no. She always had good grades, could have gone to almost any college she wanted to, but she could never decide. And she was always willing to help people. That never changed. But like many kids her age, she had a rebellious streak in her. She was always pushing the limits, seeing how far she could go, hanging out with the wrong crowd, bringing home people she knew we wouldn't like. For a few years, mostly in her sophomore and junior years, we were really worried about her."

The phone on Denise's hip sent out a shrill ring. She glanced down at it and rose to her feet. "Excuse me," she said, "I have to take this." She walked off down the hall.

"Did she ever use any drugs?" Harm asked.

"She drank. We knew about that. And it didn't bother us too much, as long as she wasn't driving or didn't get into a car with someone who had been drinking. She called us once, from a party, said she and a few other people had been drinking and she wanted to come home. We ended up driving two of her friends home as well. And we didn't punish her for it. She did the right thing. But we never found any drugs. We found lighters, but she burned a lot of candles. And we would have questioned it more, but she was still making good grades."

Mac had been keeping her eye on Denise as she listened to Mrs. Johnson. Denise had been pacing nervously around the entryway while she was talking, but suddenly she stopped. "No!" she said loudly into the phone.

Both Harm and Mrs. Johnson paused. Mrs. Johnson turned to look at Denise, but quickly turned away. There was no way for Harm to see her around the corner.

"So, you don't know for sure that she ever used drugs?" Harm continued.

Mrs. Johnson shook her head. "We don't know that she did, but we don't know that she didn't either. But she was better her last year of high school. She started hanging out with a better crowd."

Denise was talking loudly again and Mrs. Johnson stopped talking. "I told you about that." Denise paused. "Is it my fault you didn't listen?" She sighed heavily. "No, not at all. I told you that is where I would be." She paused again. "I did." She was silent for another moment. She stood gazing out the wind of the front door, one arm across her chest, the other holding the phone. "No. You don't…" She didn't say anything else for a moment. "Don't do it. You don't have to." She sighed heavily again. "Look, now is not the time for this. We'll have this discussion later." She paused again. "Fine," she said angrily before she hung up. She turned back down the hallway and rejoined the now silent conversation. "Sorry about that," she said.

"Everything okay?" Harm asked. The conversation hadn't sounded pleasant.

"Yeah," she nodded. "Shall we continue?"

Harm and Mac both nodded. Mac asked the next question. "What about boyfriends, Mrs. Johnson? Did she ever go out with anyone?"

"She was usually just friends with guys. They would all go out as a group, several guys and several girls. Her senior year she went out with a guy for about four months."

"Do you know if she was sexually active?" Denise asked.

Mrs. Johnson shook her head. "She and Brad would hang out after school, sometimes either here or at his house. I suppose they could have been having sex, but I trusted her. He was her first serious boyfriend and I don't think it went that far."

Denise nodded. She couldn't speak about that particular relationship, but the autopsy had revealed that Seaman Johnson was no virgin, as evidenced by the torn hymen and vaginal stretching, but she wasn't about to inform Mrs. Johnson of this.

Backing away from the serious stuff, Harm asked, "How long was your daughter going to be home on leave?"

"She had a week. The Roosevelt was in port at Norfolk for repairs and whatever they do when they are in port. Forgive me, but I am not well versed in Naval issues."

Harm smiled sympathetically.

"Did she go to the club very often when she was home?" Denise asked.

"She hadn't been for a while. I don't think she's been at all since she enlisted. She went more after she turned 18 and before she joined the Navy. So I was surprised when she went out."

"Did she go by herself?" Mac asked.

"No, never," Mrs. Johnson answered firmly. "She always went with at least one other person."

"Who did she go with on the night of her murder?" Denise inquired.

Mrs. Johnson's eyes teared up. "Her friend Jessica. She's known Jessica since her sophomore year. Jessica was one of those kids Caitlin's father and I didn't really care for. She was a sweet enough kid, but she was wild. I wasn't even aware that Caitlin was still in touch with her."

"Do you know Jessica's last name?" Harm asked.

"Crawford. Jessica Crawford. She still lives here in the area."

Mac scribbled the name down. They'd be talking to Jessica.

Harm asked, "Do you know of anybody who would have any reason to hold a grudge against your daughter?"

Mrs. Johnson shook her head, "No. I can't imagine why anybody would want to do this to her. She was such a sweet person."

"Anything else you can think of?" Denise asked.

"Caitlin was a good kid. She was mixed up for a little while, but she was a good kid. She didn't deserve this."

"They never do, Ma'am," Mac said softly.

Denise rose to her feet and picked up the tape recorder. As she pocketed it, she pulled out a card and handed it to Mrs. Johnson. "If you think of anything else, Ma'am, please, don't hesitate to call me."

Mrs. Johnson also rose to her feet, followed by Harm and Mac. "I won't," she said. "You'll find out what happened to my little girl, won't you?" she asked, her voice pleading.

"We'll do our best, Ma'am," Denise assured her.

Mrs. Johnson led them to the front door and held it open for them.

Harm and Mac donned their covers and Harm turned to say, "Again, Ma'am, I'm sorry for your loss."

"Enjoy the rest of your day," Mac offered with a weak smile. She hated this part of her job.

"You, too," Mrs. Johnson said as a tear fell from her eye.

Once back in the car, Denise picked up her cell phone and called the station house. She was looking for an address for a Jessica Crawford in Chantilly. A few minutes later, she had the address and directed Harm to the house.

As they drove, Harm asked, "So, what do you guys think?"

"She didn't know her daughter," Mac answered quickly.

"Why do you think that?" Harm asked.

"She didn't know if she was using drugs or not. She didn't seem concerned by this, as long as the grades were good. She knew she drank, but she didn't seem to mind this either. And trusting her alone with a boyfriend after school… She may have trusted her daughter, but I don't think she knew her daughter. Any kid that hangs out with the 'bad crowd' is more likely to drink and do drugs themselves, no matter how good the grades are. It's the smart kids that can be the most trouble."

"I agree with Mac," Denise began. "Johnson's body was clean of drugs at the autopsy, she had some alcohol in her system, but she was in the Navy. If she liked where she was and what she was doing, she wasn't likely to put that at risk."

Harm added his opinion. "That makes three of us, then. She seemed very naive to her daughter's activity. The whole boyfriend thing… Didn't the autopsy indicate that she had, at some point, engaged in sexual activity?"

Denise nodded as she answered, "Yes. She may not have been back in high school, but as Mac said, she hung out with a bad crowd, making her more likely to engage in such activities."

"I'm willing to bet," said Mac, "that back in high school, she was using drugs and having sex. The good grades could have been just a cover. And being in the Navy may mean that she quit using drugs, but she didn't have to quit hanging out with her friends, whether they were good or bad. The Navy doesn't prohibit that."

Harm nodded. "I'm interested in what Jessica Crawford has to say."

They were silent for a few minutes as they searched for the address Denise had received from the station house.

The Crawford house was a townhouse, painted a deep blue with maroon shutters. Many of the parking spaces in front of the row of houses were empty, but directly in front of the Crawford house was an old, beat up, blue Buick. Harm parked the car next to the Buick and all three of them climbed out. Denise led the way and knocked on the door.

Rustling could be heard behind the door and a moment later, the door opened. Before the trio stood a girl, about 5'8", heavy set, dirty-blonde hair that was tousled and sticking up in places. Her blue eyes were blood-shot and appeared to be sleep-filled. She was wearing a t-shirt and a pair of blue, plaid boxer shorts. "Yeah?"

"Jessica Crawford?" Denise asked.

The girl nodded. She couldn't have been more than 20, if that.

Denise flashed her badge. "I'm Detective West from the D.C. Police. This is Commander Rabb and Lieutenant Colonel MacKenzie from the Judge Advocate General's office. May we speak to you for a moment?"

Jessica looked nervous. "Um, yeah." She stepped back from the door, allowing Denise, Harm, and Mac to enter. The house was crowded, papers and gadgets everywhere. Two dogs, pugs, were sleeping in a dog bed about four feet from the door. Jessica led them towards the kitchen. As they passed the living room, Mac noticed a young man stretched out on the couch, his chest bare, covered by a black and red checkered blanket. The house had a musty smell. Jessica led them to the kitchen table and indicated that they sit down. "You want anything to drink?" she asked nervously.

"No, thanks," they all responded as they drew chairs out from around the table. Harm was seated between Denise and Mac and the empty chair resided just opposite him. Jessica took a seat in it.

"Who is that on the couch?" Mac asked.

"Chris. My boyfriend."

Once again, Mac pulled her pad of paper from her purse and Denise pulled the tape recorder out of her pocket. "Do you mind?" she asked.

Jessica regarded the machine for a moment. "I guess not."

"Ms. Crawford," Denise began. "We're here to talk to you about the murder of your friend, Caitlin Johnson."

"Call me Jessica, please." Jessica's expression was still nervous, but it now contained an element of sadness. "I don't know anything. I don't think I can be of much help to you."

"We just want to ask you a few questions," Harm explained.

Jessica sighed. "I don't really know what I can say that will help."

"How long have you known Caitlin?" Denise asked.

"Since high school. I think we were in tenth grade?" she paused for a moment. "Yeah, tenth grade, English class."

"What sorts of things did you guys do together?" Mac asked.

Jessica looked at them somewhat crossly. "I thought this was about her murder, not a trip down memory lane."

"It is," Mac began calmly. "But we want a picture of who she was, what her life was like."

Jessica sighed again and bit her lip. "Will I get in trouble for this?"

"What do you mean?" Harm asked.

"I mean, will you tell anybody about what I say? Like my parents? And will I go to jail for things we did when we were in high school?"

"No," Denise answered quickly. "This is confidential. It will go no further than us unless it pertains to the case. And you won't get punished for things you did in the past. All we are really concerned about is what happened to Caitlin. We want to make sure this doesn't happen to someone else."

Jessica relaxed. "Okay, then. Cat and I, we hung out a lot. We spent a lot of time at her house, stayed up late and watched movies. We… um…" she paused, unsure.

"Go on," Mac urged. "You won't get in trouble for it."

"We smoked pot whenever we could. We also drank whenever we could. We liked to get high and drunk, it broke up the boredom of school. We went out to parties, went to houses and stayed with guys… We really just partied a lot."

"Did you do this all through high school?" Harm asked.

"No. We quit hanging out so much during our senior year. She started going out with this guy, Brad, for a while. But towards the end of the year, once we were both 18, we started going to clubs in the city."

"Catacombs?" Denise asked.

"Yeah," Jessica nodded. "Cat wasn't as big into it as I was. She went mostly for me. But she did like dressing up for it, meeting guys at the club. She said it made her feel rebellious, even though she wasn't doing anything wrong."

"And when she joined the Navy?" Harm asked.

"I couldn't believe she did it. She has always been different from the rest of our crowd, calmer, quieter, smarter, but I didn't expect her to go for the military. I figured she'd go on to college."

"But you stayed in touch?" Harm questioned again.

"Not at first. Then one day, about six months ago, I got an email from her."

"Did she like the Navy?" Mac asked.

"She said it was interesting. She didn't really like all the rules and enforcements, but she loved being out in the world, doing something good for the country. Especially after September 11th. She was proud of what she did, even if she wasn't always happy."

"How often did you guys communicate?" Denise asked.

"We exchanged emails about once a week. She didn't always have access to a computer, so it varied, but about once a week. And she called me about two weeks before she was home on leave. She wanted to get together while she was home."

"Who suggested the club?" Mac asked.

"She did. I was surprised. Even I hadn't been to Catacombs in a while."

"So what happened the night of the murder?" Denise asked.

Jessica looked sad for a moment. "I picked her up at her house and we got to the club at about eleven. It was only me and her. Chris was working so he wasn't coming with us. We got there and hung around. We ran into a few people that we knew, got some drinks, danced. Cat was wild, but I figured she was just cutting loose. I hadn't seen her take anything and she didn't have much to drink. I was getting bored with the whole thing, so I pulled her aside. She didn't want to go, so I said I'd come back for her. She said she'd probably get a ride home. I never heard from her again. I just assumed she got a ride. I didn't know anything until I read about her in the paper last week. I called her mom and she was upset. We both were."

"Understandable," Mac said.

"Was Caitlin hanging around anybody in particular?" Denise asked.

"No, she was with a lot of people. For a while she stuck with the people we knew, but she eventually just started dancing with anybody and everybody. By the time I left, I had seen her making out with three different guys. I got the feeling that she didn't want to go home alone, if you know what I mean."

Denise nodded. "If you saw any of the guys she was kissing that night, would you recognize them?"

"I don't know. It was dark, I mean there was the strobe light, but still… And most of us dress differently during the day, so the clothes would be different. I really don't know if I would recognize them again."

"Do you know anybody who would want to hurt Caitlin?" Denise asked.

Jessica shook her head. "Nah. She had her own opinions of things, her own ideas, but she never forced them on anybody. And she was always nice to everybody. I can't even think of someone that didn't like her. I don't know many of her friends, but I still don't know why anybody would hurt her."

"Can you think of anything else that might be helpful?" Harm asked.

"No. Sorry."

Denise rose to her feet, followed closely by Harm and Mac. She pocketed the tape recorder and pulled a card out. She handed it to Jessica. "If you think of anything that may help us, please call me."

Jessica stood up and nodded as well. "I will. I hope you catch whoever did this."

"We're doing our best," Mac responded.

Jessica led them to the front door and they stepped out.

Once in the car on the way back to D.C., Mac, from the backseat, initiated the conversation. "Well, she painted a different picture of Seaman Johnson."

"Yes, she did," Harm chuckled. "Her mom really didn't know what she was up to."

"A lot of moms don't," Mac said sadly.

"That is too often true," Denise agreed. "But I get the feeling that Jessica was right in that Johnson may have been letting loose that night."

"There are a lot of rules and regulations to follow," Harm agreed. "I can understand why someone, especially a young person, would want to cut loose when they could. I found ways to do it back at the Academy. We all find ways to adjust."

Mac laughed lightly. "You still have to tell me those stories. I want to know what kind of trouble you and Sturgis got into."

"Don't forget Keeter."

Mac laughed a little harder. "How could I?"

Denise interrupted the friendly moment. "Anyway, I also got the feeling that she wasn't telling us everything."

"She didn't seem all that upset for having just lost a friend, did she?" Harm asked.

"No, she really didn't," Mac agreed.

"Some of it may be nerves," Denise suggested, "but I think there was more than she was telling us."

"Definitely," Harm nodded.

"But do you think she had anything to do with Johnson's murder?" Mac asked as she flipped through her notes.

"No," Denise answered. "I don't think she did. I just think she isn't telling us something. Whether it is important or not, I don't know."

Harm sighed. "But what bothers me is that Jessica left her there. She knew Johnson was acting wild, but she just left her there. She offered to come back, but after closing time, what was Johnson supposed to do, stand on the street corner? And who was she going to get a ride home with, a complete stranger? What kind of a friend is that?"

"Good point," Denise agreed, nodding.

"They had both been drinking," Mac pointed out. "Neither one may have been thinking clearly. Plus, they are still both young and may still think that nothing bad will happen to them."

"Still," Harm insisted. "I know you are a Marine, but Mac, I wouldn't leave you out on the streets in that part of the city for half an hour, forty-five minutes while I came back to pick you up. I would have insisted that you leave with me. That's what friends do, they don't leave friends behind in a potentially dangerous situation."

"Good to know, Harm. I'll keep that in mind. However, we are both older than these kids. We've been around, experienced and seen things they haven't. Perhaps they just felt that it wouldn't be them."

"Harm has a point, though," Denise stated. "Jessica did leave her behind. For whatever reason, she didn't act like a friend. And she is probably feeling guilty because now, something bad happened to her friend."

"You would have thought she would have acted more upset in that case," Mac said.

"True," Harm agreed.

All three of them were silent with this. They had a lot of questions and still no answers. Harm dropped Denise off at the station and headed back to JAG Headquarters with Mac.


	5. Chapter 5

JAG Headquarters  
Falls Church, Virginia  
Friday, September 26, 2003  
1635 Hours (local)

"Hey, Mac," Harm called softly from the doorway to her office.

"Hay is for horses, Harm," she replied, looking up at him with a smile. She had done her best all week to act like nothing was wrong and she didn't know anything. It wasn't always easy, but if she could put the club incident out of her head, she was okay.

"Smarty pants."

"That's me," Mac responded brightly. "Now, are you bugging me for a reason?"

"Well, if I'm bugging you…" Harm trailed off, offering her a half-hearted pout.

"Spit it out," she demanded, as if she were talking to a small child, still with a smile on her face.

"You doing anything this weekend?"

"You planning on going back to the club, Harm? I didn't know it impressed you that much," she teased.

"No, not really. But I do have the Bennett court-martial on Monday and I was hoping I could bounce some things off of you over the weekend."

Mac regarded him closely for a moment. It wasn't unusual for them to bounce ideas and run opening and closing statements by the other, provided they weren't on opposing sides of the case. "What do I get out of it?"

"You get to spend time with me," he said, giving her a goofy grin.

"And why would I want to do that?" she questioned sarcastically. "You'll have to tempt me with something better."

"I'll cook for you."

"Sold. Just tell me when and I'll be there."

"Sunday afternoon? It'll give me time to get everything prepared."

"Ooo!" Mac said excitedly. "Am I to expect a five-course meal?" she asked with a smile.

"Silly. No, I need to prepare the case."

"Oh. You got me all excited there for a moment, Harm."

"Sorry to disappoint you, Mac."

"I'll bet."

Harm turned to walk away. "I'll call you."

"You do that," Mac responded as she returned to her work with a smile.

xxxxx

Harm's Apartment  
North of Union Station  
Washington, D.C.  
Sunday, September 28, 2003  
1957 Hours (local)

Harm had made eggplant Parmesan for dinner. Mac had been reluctant to try it, as she was always leery of Harm's new recipes, since some of them turned out to be as toxic as "Harm's Meatless Meatloaf," but he had sworn by this one. And he had been right. Mac was no big fan of eggplant, but for something containing eggplant and lacking meat, the dish was delectable. By the time she was done eating, she thought she was going to have to unbutton her jeans just to breathe.

"Harm, that was absolutely delicious," she declared as she leaned back from the table. "I'm going to have to jog home just to lose enough weight to fit into my uniform in the morning."

Harm smiled. "I told you it was good."

"Yeah, well, there's no accounting for your taste. You think your meatless meatloaf is good."

"Meanie-head."

Mac laughed as she asked, "Did you just call me a meanie-head?"

"I sure did."

"You are so juvenile!"

"I could have called you a butt-head."

Mac laughed even harder as she balled up her napkin in her lap. "Harmon Rabb! What would your mother think of you using such language?"

"She's heard worse. She married a sailor!"

Mac laughed even harder. He was in fine form tonight. He had done an excellent job preparing for the case and Mac had been impressed. Add that to her enjoyment of his meal, and his ego had probably quadrupled during the evening. Mac gave Harm a playful smile and threw her balled-up napkin at him, hitting him square in the forehead.

"Now who is being juvenile?" he asked.

"You started it," Mac tossed back playfully.

"And I'll be the one who finishes it, too," he said, returning Mac's playful grin.

"Ha! I'll believe that when I see it!"

Harm rose from the table and picked up both his and Mac's plate to take to the sink. He smiled slyly at her as he said, "Just you wait. I'll get you."

"Promises, promises…" Mac said, baiting him. She wanted to see what he would do.

Harm rinsed the dishes off in the sink and left them sitting there. He said nothing as he walked up behind Mac. She watched him as he walked, eyeing his wet hands suspiciously. When he was directly behind her, Mac braced herself for getting wet. But he didn't touch her; he just pulled back on her chair, tipping Mac backwards.

Mac squealed and jumped forward out of the chair and turned around in one swift motion, hitting her hip on the table in the process.

"You okay?" Harm asked seriously. He hadn't meant for her to hurt herself.

"I am, but you won't be," she said as she gave him another playful grin.

"Is that a threat?" Harm smiled.

Mac stepped out from around the chair. "You bet it is."

"Well," Harm smiled smugly. "I'm not done with you yet," he said, holding up his still-wet hands.

Mac bolted out from in front of the chair and ran to the far side of the table. Harm was quickly on her heels. He chased her around the table for a minute, always ending up just opposite of her, the table between them. "You have to get me first," she said. She inched forward again.

Harm switched directions and started heading in the direction opposite of Mac's direction, narrowing the space between them. She quickly reversed directions and ran the other way. Harm was quick and he changed directions as well. And instead of circling the table again, Mac darted past him and out into the living area. Harm was right behind her. Once in the open space, Harm lunged and grabbed a hold of Mac around her waist. This action threw them both off balance and they took a few clumsy steps to the soft landing of the couch, Harm landing on top of Mac. "Got you," he stated, smiling down at her.

"I guess so, but it's only because your legs are longer."

"I don't know, Mac, you do have pretty long legs."

"You've been checking out my legs?"

Harm nodded, suddenly becoming aware of their current position. He was precariously close to Mac's lips and he couldn't take his eyes off of them. His body was pressed against hers and he felt desire stirring within him, having obvious effects on other parts of his body.

Mac giggled. "You are naughty, Harm."

"I can show you naughty, Mac," he said, licking his lips.

With those words, Mac, too, became aware of their position. And she also became aware of a rapidly hardening presence on her thigh. She swallowed hard. "Um, Harm?"

"Mac…" he breathed, still focusing on her lips that he was desperate to kiss.

Mac trembled beneath him. "Harm…" she whispered.

He inched ever closer to her, intent on claiming her lips.

"Please… Don't…" she said, a little louder, her voice trembling now, along with her body.

Harm turned his focus from her lips to her eyes and was startled by what he saw there: uncertainty and… hurt? He immediately backed off, pulling his weight off of her. "I'm sorry, Mac," he said hastily, a little confused.

Mac pulled herself up on the couch and looked away. "It's okay."

For a moment, they just sat in silence. Harm was trying to figure out what happened and Mac was trying to purge her mind of images of Harm with Denise.

Finally, Mac rose to her feet and said, "I should go. I do have some things I want to get done before tomorrow," she explained as she walked to the door.

Harm got up off the couch and followed her. At the door, they both paused. "I'm really sorry about that, Mac. I didn't…"

Mac just shook her head, "It's okay, Harm. Don't worry about it. I'll see you tomorrow." She stepped out of the door into the hallway towards the stairs before Harm had a chance to say anything else.

xxxxx

JAG Headquarters  
Falls Church, Virginia  
Monday, September 29, 2003  
0809 Hours (local)

Harm saw Mac already in her office when he arrived. He stopped by to talk to her. "Good morning, Mac," he called.

She looked up at him. "Morning, Harm."

"How are you?"

"Good. Coates brews better coffee than Tiner, but it still isn't strong enough."

Harm smiled warmly. She seemed to be in good humor. "About last night…" he said, testing the waters.

"Harm, forget it. Don't worry about it. Nothing happened."

Harm looked down at his feet for a moment. "I know. But I still feel bad for how I acted."

Mac sighed and smiled to him. "Harm, don't feel bad about it. We just got carried away last night. It wasn't only you. I kind of led you on." And had it been another time and had she not seen Harm and Denise at the club the previous weekend, she probably wouldn't have put an end to it, but welcomed where the events were heading with open arms.

"So we're okay?"

"Yeah," Mac nodded.

He smiled, his face relaxing, as he turned. "Thanks, Mac."

"No problem," she said as she returned to her work.

xxxxx

JAG Headquarters  
Falls Church, Virginia  
Monday, September 29, 2003  
0917 Hours (local)

Coates had summoned both Harm and Mac into the Admiral's office. When they entered, they were immediately told to sit. Detective West was already present.

Harm, Mac, and Detective West had interviewed Seaman Johnson's father, and Seaman Ellis's parents the previous week after their interviews with Mrs. Johnson and Jessica Crawford. Nobody had any additional useful information. It appeared that Ellis and Johnson had never crossed paths. Without any new information, the case appeared to be going nowhere.

"Commander, Colonel," the Admiral began, "there have been new developments is the Catacombs case. Detective West will explain."

Denise stepped forward. "I know we were all hoping for more information, but this wasn't what any of us wanted." The Admiral handed Mac a folder as Harm leaned over the arm of his chair to view the contents. "There was another murder on Saturday night, early Sunday morning."

Mac opened the folder and was greeted with the information on an Ensign Rebekah Bailey. The picture of the Ensign showed a smiling young woman with brown eyes and brown hair pulled back into the required bun. The information stated that she was 23 and was stationed at the Naval Air Station in Meridian, Mississippi, so she was probably in the area on leave like Ellis and Johnson. Under the initial information on Ensign Bailey were photos and information on the crime scene. Like the previous two murders, this one was done in the same corner. Bailey was slumped against the wall, blood pooled around her, her throat slit. She had been in a black dress that showed some signs of tearing, and her hair was pulled up into two buns on her head, one on each side, with small spikes of hair sticking out. Mac immediately noticed the two deviations in this case: she was commissioned and not stationed onboard a ship.

"Who found her?" Harm asked as he studied the pictures.

"Her friend that accompanied her to the club, Marcus Skylar."

"Have you spoken to him yet?" Mac asked.

"Other than the initial interview, no. I was hoping you guys would be able to accompany me."

"I have court today," Harm said, "but I could go tomorrow. What about you, Mac?"

"Tomorrow morning I'm free, but I do have a client meeting in the afternoon."

"We'll do it then," Denise decided. "I'll leave the folder with the new information with you." She nodded to the Admiral as she left.

"I want this case solved," the Admiral stated firmly.

"Yes, Sir," both Harm and Mac responded.

"Keep me updated. Dismissed."


	6. Chapter 6

JAG Headquarters  
Falls Church, Virginia  
Tuesday, September 30, 2003  
0906 Hours (local)

Mac and Denise were standing by the elevators waiting for Harm. He had gotten caught up talking to Bud and Sturgis about a case and promised them he would be there in a minute. That was five minutes ago. Denise and Mac had been tossing ideas back and forth about the case, but that only lasted so long. After a minute of silence, Mac tried to make small talk. "How long have you been in the area?"

"I grew up here. I love it here, so why leave? What about you? How long have you been here?"

"I'm a desert rat. Grew up in Arizona. I was transferred here about eight years ago to work on a case. Been here ever since."

"And how long have you known Harm?"

"I worked with him on my first case here."

"So it's been eight years?"

Mac nodded as she answered, "Yeah. So, why did you join the police force?"

"I love helping people. Always have. Public service was right up my ally. And I just had a knack for detective work. I like giving people closure in their lives when bad things happen."

"Makes sense."

"Why did you join the military? And why did you become a lawyer?" Denise asked with a smile, letting out a small chuckle.

"My uncle inspired me to join the Marine Corps. And one of my former COs suggested and recommended me for law school. I took the opportunity and here I am."

"Ever married?" Denise asked.

Mac looked at her feet for a moment before she answered. "Once," she paused again. "He was killed."

"Military?"

"No. Bad business," Mac responded, shaking her head, wanting to shift the conversation away from her marriage with Chris.

"What about Harm?"

"Never married."

"No, I mean, have you and him ever, you know…" she trailed off, smiling with a gleam in her eye.

Mac shook her head. "That is a very long story that I don't feel like telling." She paused for a moment. "You ever been married?"

Denise looked into the bullpen, waiting for Harm. "It's taking him long enough, isn't it?"

"I've gotten used to him being late."

"If he does this all the time, after eight years, I'd think you would be tired of it."

"It does get old. I've thought about changing all of his clocks so they run five minutes fast, and then he'd be on time, or closer to it, but I don't think he would take kindly to that action. He'd think I was insulting him."

Denise giggled. "Well you know men, they have no sense of time!"

"Isn't that the truth!" Mac agreed with a smile.

Harm came through the doors. "Ready?"

Mac glared at him, "We've been ready. We would already be on the road, but we've been waiting for you."

Denise rolled her eyes as she hit the down button for the elevator. "And they accuse us women of always being late."

"I know," Mac said. "They have obviously never met Harm."

Harm looked back and forth between the two of them. "Very funny guys, but you don't do cute very well."

Mac turned around and leveled her gaze at Harm. "Who said anything about trying to be cute?"

The elevator arrived and the three of them boarded it. "Okay, I'm sorry I was running late."

Mac turned and offered a smile to him. "Got what I wanted."

"So you're not mad?"

"Because you were late? Please, spare me, Harm. You may infuriate me sometimes, but because you are running five minutes late when we are going to go interview someone, not worth the effort. I'll save it for something bigger."

Denise shook her head and giggled again. "You guys sound like an old married couple."

The gazes she received from each said something different: Mac's was angry and Harm's was amused. And the conversation was officially silenced.

xxxxx

3758 Point of Woods Drive  
Manassas, Virginia  
Tuesday, September 30, 2003  
0959 Hours (local)

They had found Marcus Skylar's house easy enough. It was a brick townhouse in a neighborhood near the center of Manassas. They knocked on the door and there was no response. Denise knocked again, a little harder. The door opened to reveal a man in his mid-twenties clad only in his bathrobe and boxer shorts. He was about six feet tall, heavy set, had green eyes, and short, light brown hair that was going in every direction. He was rubbing at one of his eyes and looked like the epitome of someone awakened in the middle of the night.

"Marcus Skylar?" Denise asked.

He nodded.

"I'm Detective West and this is Commander Rabb and Lieutenant Colonel MacKenzie of the Judge Advocate General's Office. We'd like to ask you a few questions about the other night and Rebekah Bailey."

Marcus instantly looked more awake, and somber. "Yeah, come on in." He held open the screen door and allowed them entrance. Once inside, he led them to the living room and said, "Have a seat, if you want."

There was a couch and a love seat in the room, forming an L-shape. And in the corner closest to the doorway, near the couch, was a rocking chair. Harm took a seat in this and Denise and Mac sat on the couch.

Marcus regarded them closely, biting his lip. "I'm sorry. You guys woke me up," he said with a yawn. "Do you mind if I run upstairs real quick and put some clothes on?"

"Go ahead," Denise said. He wasn't a suspect and they didn't think he'd run away.

"Thanks," he said as he turned to go up the stairs.

The couch and the loveseat formed a sitting area focused on the television in the room against a wall. On the far wall, was a light-colored piano, the top of which was adorned with photos. After pulling a notepad from her purse, Mac rose from the couch, dropped the notepad and her purse on the floor, and moved towards the pictures. There was one that looked like Marcus in his younger days with his family, all of them smiling. He was probably fifteen in the picture. There was a picture of a smiling blonde woman with her arm over Marcus's shoulder. That picture was taken within the last few years. There was another one of a large group of people, all wearing black shirts and green aprons, and was probably a photograph of a group of people from work. Marcus and the blonde woman were both in the picture. There was another group photo, this one a lot less formal, and Marcus, the blonde woman, and Ensign Bailey were in this one with several other people. It looked like this one was at an amusement park of some kind.

Marcus reentered the room. "Can I get you guys anything to drink?" he asked politely.

All three declined.

Denise pulled the tape recorder out of her pocket. "Do you mind if I record this?" she asked.

Marcus shook his head. He looked at Mac as she studied the pictures. He crossed the room and joined her. Pointing to the informal group photo, he said, "That was taken last fall at King's Dominion. Bekah was home for a few days," he said sadly.

"And who is this?" Mac asked, indicating the blonde woman.

"That's Ally, my roommate. We met a couple of years ago at work, the coffee shop three blocks up. We both needed a place and a roommate and since we were friends anyway, it just worked."

"You still work there?"

"I do. Ally was in college at the time, so she's got a real job now."

Mac turned back to the couch. "You in college?"

"I take a class or two every semester. At this rate, it will be another few years before I graduate."

"How long have you known Rebekah, Mr. Skylar?" Denise asked.

"Marc, please. I've known Bekah since high school. She and I are best friends." He paused for a moment and looked down at his feet. "We were best friends." He walked and took a seat on the loveseat. "She was my rock. I needed her. For a while she was the only friend I had. She let me stay with her and her parents when my parents kicked me out in high school."

"Why did your parents kick you out?" Harm asked.

"Because I told them I was gay. They told me they didn't have a son."

"Do you ever speak to them?"

"Maybe twice a year. I think they have finally accepted the fact that I am not going to change. Being gay is who I am."

"And how long did you stay with Rebekah and her parents?" Mac asked.

"Until we graduated from high school. I had job during the last few years of high school, so I could afford a place with a roommate. I had hoped Bekah would join me, but she left to go to the Naval Academy. So I moved in with a few guys that I knew. That didn't last long and I bounced around for a while, spent some time on the streets."

"Why didn't you go back to Rebekah's parents?" Mac questioned.

"They had done enough for me. I guess I was too proud. I wanted to make it on my own. I moved in with a guy I was in a relationship with for about a year, but when we split, I needed somewhere to go. That's when Ally and I got this place. For a while another guy, Matt, from work stayed with us, but he eventually moved."

"How did you feel when Rebekah went to the Academy?" Denise asked.

"Lost. My best friend was gone. I'd see her when she came home, and we called each other and wrote letters, but she wasn't with me anymore. It was tough without her, but I was proud of her. She was always smart and wanted to do something with her life. I wasn't surprised that she did something like join the Navy. And family has always been important to her. Her grandfather died our senior year of high school. He was in the Navy and was a pilot in World War Two. I guess she kind of wanted to follow in his footsteps. She's not a pilot, but she does work with the planes."

"You miss her?" Mac asked softly.

"Oh yeah," Marc answered, looking down at his hands. When he looked up, he had tears in his eyes. "She was here just the other day. She sat on the couch and we watched a movie and laughed until we cried. We'll never be able to do that again. I'll never hug her, tell her I love her, go dancing with her, watch movies with her, go shopping and check out men with her, I'll never get to do any of that again." He turned away to gaze in the direction of the kitchen, a few tears falling.

"Sorry," Mac said quietly.

Marc shook his head. "No, don't be." He looked back at Mac. "I'll have to get used to it. She's not coming back. No matter how much I want her to."

Mac reached into her purse and pulled out a tissue. She handed it to Marc.

He smiled weakly at her. "Thanks." He turned to Harm and Denise. "Sorry, sometimes it just hits me all over again."

Denise nodded. "That's normal." She paused for a moment. "Can you tell us about Saturday night?"

Marc nodded. "She was home for a few days, so we got together. That's what we usually do. We'll go out dancing, go out for drinks, go to a movie, whatever we feel like doing. She has gone with me to the Gay-Nights at some of the clubs in D.C. and I'll go with her where she wants to go. She had heard about Catacombs from a friend and wanted to check it out. Saturday was the first time we had ever gone. And we were having fun. She went to talk to this guy and dance with him. It was getting close to closing time and I just sat back at one of the tables and waited for her. She knew where I was. When the lights came back on, I didn't see her. I wandered around through the crowd and that's when I saw her on the floor in the back corner. Her throat…" Marc turned away, unable to finish.

"That's okay," Harm said.

They all gave Marc another minute to collect himself. Mac handed him another tissue. "My apologies," he said as he turned back to the group.

"No problem," Denise assured him. "We understand that this is not an easy thing for you. However, any help you can give us would be greatly appreciated."

Marc nodded. "I know, and I'll do anything I can to help you find who did this to Bekah. I don't want it to happen to anybody else."

Denise nodded as she studied Marc. "Did you see the guy that Rebekah went off with?"

"It was dark in there, you know?"

They all nodded, but Denise spoke, "Anything you have would be helpful."

Marc nodded again. "He wasn't tall, shorter than me, maybe 5'9" or so. He had a ball chain necklace on. His hair was long, it came down to about his ears and it looked dark. I couldn't really see much of his face."

"Was he fat or skinny?" Denise asked.

"Skinnier than I am, not as muscular as you, Commander," Marc said, gesturing to Harm. "Medium build, I guess."

Denise nodded. "Would you be able to tell a sketch artist anything, maybe get a drawing?"

"No," he said, shaking his head sadly. "I couldn't really see his face."

Mac looked at Marc and asked, "Did Rebekah seem willing to go along with this guy?"

Marc nodded. "She was holding his hand and smiling. I figured she was just going to go make out with him. She's been known to do that. Hell, I've been known to do that. That's part of the fun of going out."

Harm closely scrutinized Marc as he asked, "Did she give you a name?"

Marc thought for a moment. "It was something with an A; Aaron, Alex, Adrian or something."

"About how long was she gone before you found her?" Denise asked.

"Fifteen, twenty minutes at most. And the last three or four minutes I was wandering through the crowd looking for her with the lights on."

"Can you think of anybody who would want to hurt Rebekah in any way?" Denise asked.

Marc shook his head. "She was so sweet and kind, I can't imagine why anybody would want to hurt her."

Harm, Mac, and Denise looked at each other. Denise rose to her feet and extended her business card. "If you can think of anything else, Marc, please call me."

He rose to his feet as well. "I will."

Harm and Mac got up as Denise picked up the recorder. Marc led them out of the house. Once in the car, Denise said, "Well, we got a partial description."

"He seemed genuinely upset," Mac stated.

"He did," Harm agreed. "He seemed like he really cared about Ensign Bailey."

"I think he did," Mac said. "Jessica Crawford may have been holding something back, but I think Marc was being honest."

Denise nodded. "We'll have to see what we can do with the information Marc gave us. But I think we are getting closer. Of course, this guy that Marc saw may not be the guy we are looking for."

"If he isn't, he may be able to help find the guy we are looking for. Maybe he saw him," Mac pointed out.

"True," Denise said.

"But I think this one is our guy," Harm said. "Ensign Bailey was only gone for maybe twenty minutes."

"I agree," Mac said.

"As do I," Denise added.

"It'll make the Admiral happy," Mac said as she leaned back in the seat. Maybe, they would be able to get this case figured out after all.

xxxxx

JAG Headquarters  
Falls Church, Virginia  
Tuesday, September 30, 2003  
1103 Hours (local)

As Mac was stepping out of the car in the parking lot, her cell phone rang. She quickly answered it and stepped away from Harm and Denise. "MacKenzie," she answered.

"Colonel, it's Sergeant Mathis. I have a huge problem and I need to talk to you," he said quickly, sounding panicked.

"Sergeant, I'm not in my office at the moment, but I am just outside of the building. Let me call you right back. Are you at home?"

"Yes, Ma'am," he answered.

"Good. I'll call you back." She hung up and turned back to Harm and Denise. "If you'll excuse me, I have to go call this guy back before he flips out."

"Mathis?" Harm asked.

Mac nodded as she turned to walk away. Once in her office, she quickly calmed Sergeant Mathis down. His problem wasn't really a problem at all, for her. It would be for the prosecution, though, and Mac was starting to feel sorry for Sturgis. She sighed as she hung up her phone and looked out the window. She quickly regretted that action.

Down below, in the parking lot, Harm and Denise were still talking. He was smiling and she was laughing. And when Denise stepped closer to Harm, she knew what was going to happen. Mac quickly turned away, refusing to be a witness to Harm's betrayal of her heart. And in that moment, her good mood swiftly left her. She sat down promptly in her chair and put her head in her hands.

A few minutes later, Harm entered the bullpen. Mac glanced up at him, but hastily returned to flipping through the papers on her desk. A moment later, he was standing at her doorway.

"Mac, I was just talking to Denise about the case."

Mac looked up at him and regarded him angrily. "I'm listening."

Harm frowned at Mac's look. "Everything okay with your obsessive worrier?"

"Yes," she answered quickly. "What did you want?"

"Well, this third murder took place only two weeks after the second one. The time span between the first two was four months."

"A killer of opportunity."

"Exactly. We were thinking that he probably notices these women, thinks they're attractive, talk to them, finds out they are in the Navy, and then kills them."

"It would explain the differences in the time periods."

"And if that is the case, then we could put-"

Mac cut him off, "Someone in there undercover."

"You're finishing my sentences again."

"You're starting mine."

Harm grinned at her and she smiled back at him, she couldn't help it; he could be so hard to resist when they were on the same wavelength. "And when we send someone in, we'd be there as back up."

"We as in you and me or you and Denise?"

"Yes, or all three of us. The more eyes the better. Spread out, always have somebody keeping their eye on the corner."

"Okay, so we get the guy to talk to our plant. Then what? How do we nail him?"

"Our plant wears a wire. Get him talking, maybe he'll slip something up. Since he likes to target women in the Navy, we'll get him going on that, maybe get him fired up, talk about his past, and grab him."

"What happens if the plant gets hurt?"

"We'll hope that doesn't happen. But we'll be there, watching and listening, so he won't get very far."

Mac nodded.

"So, what do you think?"

"I think we should take it to the Admiral."

"Then let's go," Harm said as he walked out of her office.

Mac quickly rose to her feet to follow him. They stopped at Coates' desk outside the Admiral's office. Once they got the clearance to go in, Mac stepped forward while Harm lingered for a moment, looking at the Petty Officer.

"Something wrong, Sir?" she asked.

"No, sorry, I was just thinking," Harm said as he stepped into the Admiral's office. Coates got the door behind them.

The Admiral looked up at the pair expectantly. "Anything wrong?"

"No, Sir," Harm answered. "Quite the opposite."

"The Ensign that was murdered this past weekend at Catacombs was there with a friend. He was able to give us a partial description on someone who may be the guy we are looking for," Mac said.

The Admiral smiled, "Go on."

Harm began, "Apparently Ensign Bailey told her friend, Mr. Skylar, that she was going to go off with this guy for a few minutes. It was near closing time, so Mr. Skylar wasn't worried. When she didn't return at closing time, he got up to look for her and that's when he found her body."

"The Ensign introduced the guy to Mr. Skylar. He was able to give a partial description," Mac concluded.

The Admiral nodded. "Can he give us a sketch?"

"Unfortunately, no," Mac said. "And he doesn't really remember the guy's name, but he believes it began with an A. But we do have something now."

"The other thing," Harm said, "is that this murder occurred much closer to the second one than the second murder was to the first one. This makes us believe that we have a killer of opportunity."

The Admiral leaned back in his chair. "I appreciate the update."

"Sir," Harm began tentatively. "I was discussing this with Detective West, and Mac agrees with us, that perhaps sending in someone undercover would be an appropriate thing to do."

"Isn't that up to the Detective?"

"Well, technically, yes," Harm began, "but we would be in as back-up.  
The Admiral nodded. "Makes sense. If that is the next step, you have my permission."

Harm and Mac smiled. "Thank you, Sir," Mac said.

"Is that all?"

"For the moment, Admiral," Harm stated.

"Dismissed."


	7. Chapter 7

JAG Headquarters  
Falls Church, Virginia  
Thursday, October 2, 2003  
1443 Hours (local)

Harm's phone was ringing as he stepped into his office. "Commander Rabb."

"Hey, Harm."

"Denise, what's up?"

"We are cleared for the undercover operation."

"Good. When do we start?"

"We'd like to start this weekend. We do have one problem, though."

"Okay…" Harm said as he sat down in his chair. "What's the problem?'

"We don't have anybody on the force available to do it right now. We need a younger female and none of them are available."

"Okay," Harm said, thinking he knew where this was going. "So you want to use one of ours?"

"It would also mean that they already know about the Navy, making the story more believable."

"I can check with the Admiral and see if he approves."

"Do you have anybody?"

Harm nodded as he spoke, "I believe we do. I think Petty Officer Coates would work very well."

Denise was silent for a moment. She had met the Petty Officer when she had visited JAG. "Would she be willing?"

Harm smiled. The Petty Officer had been a pretty wild kid in her past and he was pretty sure she could pull off acting like one again. "I think she'll be willing."

"Good."

"I'll check with Mac and the Admiral and get back to you."

"Okay," Denise agreed as she hung up.

Harm rose from his desk and walked over to Mac's. She was flipping through books, searching for something. "You got a minute?" he asked.

"Sure," she said, looking up. "What do you need?"

Harm sat down in one of the chairs in front of her desk. "Denise just called. They want to start the undercover op this weekend."

"Sounds good."

"But, they don't have anyone available, so they want to use some one from here. Plus, they would also be more informed on the Navy, making the story more believable."

Mac nodded. "Coates."

Harm raised an eyebrow. "Were you listening to me on the phone?"

Mac smiled. "No, but we are still thinking a lot alike." At least, some of the time, she thought.

"Shall we go talk to the Admiral?" Harm asked.

Mac rose to her feet. "Yes, we should."

Harm got to his feet as well and followed Mac out of her office. Coates sent them right in.

"What do you have?" the Admiral asked, without looking up.

"On the Catacombs case," Harm began, "the D.C. Police want to start an undercover operation this weekend. However, they don't have anyone available to do it."

Now, the Admiral looked up. "Have a seat." Both officers obeyed. "And you want to send someone from here in?"

Harm and Mac nodded.

The Admiral sighed heavily as he leaned back in his chair. "This changes things a little bit."

"We are aware of that, Sir," Harm spoke again.

"Would all three of you be there?'

"Yes, Sir," Mac spoke. "And she would be wearing a wire with another police officer outside the club listening in, somebody would always be watching the corner where the other murders have taken place. The club will be notified and prepared to provide any assistance that might be necessary."

"And who did you have in mind?" the Admiral asked.

"Petty Officer Coates," Harm answered.

The Admiral pondered this for a moment. He pressed a button on his phone and Coates was put on speakerphone. "Sir?" she said.

"Come in here for a minute," he requested.

"Right away, Sir," she said and a moment later, she joined them, standing at attention slightly behind and between Harm and Mac.

"At ease," he instructed. He looked over to the far side of his office. "Go grab that chair and have a seat with us," he said, indicating one of the chairs with wheels.

Coates did as she was instructed. "Sir?" She was curious as to what she was doing here.

"Petty Officer, have you heard about the murders at a club called Catacombs in D.C.?"

"Yes, Sir. Three women from the Navy have been murdered in the club in the last few months."

"Yes. The Commander and the Colonel have been working with the D.C. Police on the case and they now have a partial description and believe the man only kills when he has the opportunity. That means he may kill once, four months later, meet another woman in the Navy, kill her, and two weeks later, meet another one and kill her."

"Understood," Coates responded, still unsure of why she was there.

"The D.C. Police have authorized an undercover operation to send someone into the club to try and bait the killer into saying something."

Coates nodded.

"The only problem," the Admiral continued, "is that D.C. Police don't have anyone available, so they want to use one of our people."

Coates nodded again. She was getting the idea.

"The Commander and the Colonel felt that you might be the woman for the job. And I agree with them. You do not have to agree to do this. It is strictly voluntary and you have the right to turn it down."

"What would I have to do, Sir?" Coates asked.

"Commander, will you explain?"

Harm nodded. "All you have to do is dance with some people, meet a few guys. We have a partial description to help narrow down your selection field. We just want you to talk to these guys, see what they say, mention the fact that you are in the Navy, home on leave, and see where it goes. We believe our guy will be interested in the fact that you are in the Navy and this will incite some emotion in him. You'll be wearing a wire, you can walk away at any point if you feel uncomfortable. And the Colonel, Detective West, and myself will be there as back up. One of us will always have you within sight. All three murders have taken place in the same corner, so we will always be watching that corner."

Coates nodded. "I'll do it."

"You don't have to," the Admiral reminded her.

"I know. I want to. This needs to stop, Admiral, and if I can do something about it, I will."

The Admiral smiled. She had come a long way since they had first met her a few Christmases ago. He was now proud to have her serving under his command. "Good."

Harm looked to the Admiral as he said, "I guess we'll go call Detective West back and we'll arrange everything."

"I want a detailed plan written out and on my desk before you go in. I want to know what is going on."

"Yes, Sir," both Harm and Mac nodded.

"Dismissed," the Admiral said.

Harm, Mac, and Coates rose up out of their chairs and left the Admiral's office. Harm looked at Coates and said, "Come with me to my office. We'll call Detective West and see what needs to be done."

"Yes, Sir," Coates said as she followed him.

Harm smiled, "And while we are working on this, call me Harm. It wouldn't look very good to address me as 'Sir' in the club."

"No, Sir, I mean, Harm, it wouldn't look good," Coates said with an embarrassed smile.

"I think that goes for all of us," Mac said. "Just call me Mac."

"Yes, Ma… Mac. Sorry, force of habit."

Both Harm and Mac smiled, "That's okay. You'll get used to it."

Coates regarded both of them for a moment. "Then call me Jen."

Once inside Harm's office, Harm picked up the phone and quickly dialed Denise's number. She answered on the second ring. "Denise, I have both Mac and Petty Officer Coates, Jen, here. Is it all right if I put you on speakerphone?"

"Fine," Denise answered and a moment later, Mac and Jen could hear her as well.

"Denise, Jen is willing to go undercover for us."

"Great," Denise answered. "You know what is involved here, Jen?"

"Yes, Ma'am, it has been explained to me what is going on and what I need to do."

"Call me Denise. And you understand that if at any point in time you feel uncomfortable with this, you are free to back out?"

"Understood, Denise."

"Good. Have you ever been undercover before, Jen?"

"No, I haven't. But I was a pretty wild child and I used to sneak into clubs a lot in high school, so I am pretty sure I can act the part," Jen responded.

"Excellent," Denise replied, sounding very enthusiastic. "How about this? We get together tomorrow night, all four of us, and go over what needs to be done, how we are going to do it, and get everything set up."

Harm, Mac, and Jen all nodded. "Sounds good to us," Harm responded. "Where shall we meet?"

"How about there at JAG Headquarters, since we all know where it is?" Denise suggested.

Everybody agreed to that, so the plan was set.

xxxxx

Catacombs  
Washington, D.C.  
Sunday, October 5, 2003  
0145 Hours (local)

Harm, Mac, Denise, and Jen had met the previous night and gotten everything straightened out. They had found an outfit appropriate for Jen to wear; dark and sexy, but not too revealing. And of course, the wire was hidden. A van was parked around the corner from the club with one of the guys from the D.C. Police inside, listening to Jen. Denise was wearing a pager, put on vibrate, so she could be notified should something of interest concerning the case be said. Mac and Jen were going to arrive at the club around 2300 together and Harm and Denise would show up at about the same time. The setting up of the pairs had taken some time, as it seemed natural for Harm and Mac to go together, and that had been the original plan, until Mac pointed out that Harm and Denise had already been to the club, so what if they were spotted again, this time with different people? So it was decided that Mac and Jen would show up together and Harm and Denise would show up together. Ideally, Harm and Denise would arrive first (Mac and Denise joked that they would set his watch five minutes fast without telling him), so when Jen arrived, she would have full back up.

Additionally, another problem was presented with Jen's cover story. If they didn't catch their man on the first try and Jen let it slip that she was home on leave, her story would be blown. They had wanted to have her home on leave from somewhere, as it would make it more consistent with the stories of the other girls, but there was a possibility that they would be there for several nights, in which case, she wouldn't be home on leave for several weeks. So, for the night, she was Ensign Jennifer Martin, normally stationed at Pax River, but comes home to visit family and friends on her weekends off.

Both parties had arrived on time. Harm and Denise set up station in the chairs around the dance floor so they could keep their eyes on the corner. Initially, Jen and Mac got some drinks, non-alcoholic, and sat in the back, talking. Harm bought drinks for him and Denise, also non-alcoholic, and chatted for a while. He and Denise got up and danced for a few songs, trying to blend in. Mac and Jen were catching the eye of a few guys. Finally, one approached them and Jen went off to dance with him. While Jen was their bait, Mac was also allowed to dance, but she had a story of working for a law firm and hanging out with Jen when she wanted to. And even though Mac was older, they still had a strong friendship. Should questions be asked, Mac had mentored Jen when she was in high school. And Mac's cover name was Mackenzie Rushmore.

After nearly three hours, lots of dancing and several drinks later, they were no closer to getting their man. At one point, Jen had been near the back corner, talking to a guy, and Harm and Denise had been dancing. They had taken a break and decided to sit for a few minutes. They had kept their eyes on the guy, and he in turn, was keeping his eyes on the two of them. So, improvising for a moment, Harm pulled Denise up and backed her up against the wall to kiss her. He had told her to watch the guy, but do it discreetly. And for several minutes, this worked, until Jen walked away from him and found Mac at one of the tables, glaring in the general direction of Harm and Denise.

Jen eyed Mac's glare and saw Harm pressing Denise up against the wall. "He is hot, isn't he? Too bad he apparently has someone."

"Huh?" Mac jumped. She had seen Jen walk away, but she hadn't noticed her grabbing the seat next to her.

"The guy, over there, he's hot, isn't he?"

Mac turned to Jen and studied her for a moment. There was laughter in her eyes. Mac relaxed and said, "Yeah. Too bad all the good ones are taken."

Jen laughed.

"So, what did that guy want?" Mac asked.

"The same thing they all do: to take me home." Jen had done an excellent job conforming to the role, easily slipping back to something resembling her wilder days. And she was enjoying it, the chance to be someone else and be a little crazy.

Mac took a sip of her drink. Harm and Denise had backed off and were wandering back through the crowd to the bar. Glancing down at her watch, not that she needed to, she said, "You ready to head out for the night?"

Jen glanced around the club for a moment before nodding. "Yeah."

The two ladies rose from the table and headed up the stairs. As she went, Mac caught Harm's eye, making sure he knew where they were headed, and offered him a flirtatious smile, more for appearance's sake than herself or Harm. Harm smiled broadly back at her and winked. They needed this to look good.

xxxxx

Mac's Apartment  
Georgetown  
Washington, D.C.  
Sunday, October 5, 2003  
0247 Hours (local)

They had all agreed to meet back up at Mac's apartment afterwards so they could discuss the events, or the lack thereof, that occurred at the club. Mac's apartment had been chosen because it was the closest to the club and everybody but Denise knew where it was. By the time Harm and Denise arrived, Mac and Jen had already rinsed off in the shower and slipped into more comfortable clothing. Mac was in a white pajama set, with little stars and moons on it, for the night and Jen was in a pair of black pajama pants and a long-sleeve t-shirt. The two of them were sprawled out on Mac's couch when Harm and Denise arrived.

Denise sank into the chair near the couch and Harm went into the kitchen to get two bottles of water. He handed one to Denise when he passed and he dropped down to the floor, stretching his legs out in front of him and leaning back on his elbows.

"Okay," Mac began, her eyes closed, "if anyone wants to stay here tonight, you are welcome to it. I will point you into the direction of blankets and pillows, but you'll have to get them yourself because I don't think I can move."

"Sounds tempting," Harm said as he lay back on the carpet.

Denise yawned before she spoke, "Then, let's make this quick. Jen, did you get anything from anybody?"

"Nope," Jen mumbled.

"What about that guy you were talking to near the end?" Denise questioned.

"Same old song. He just wanted to take me home. Very persistent." Jen yawned. "Too bad for him, I wasn't interested. But I did talk to him; let him down gently, made him feel good about it. No use in making enemies."

Mac spoke, "So, do we get to…" she trailed off as a yawn escaped, "do this again next weekend?"

"Appears that way," Denise said. "Unless something comes up. We checked the corner as we left at closing time and there was nothing."

For a moment, nothing more was said. Finally, Harm got to his feet. "Come on, I'll take you back to my place for your car," he said to Denise.

Denise dragged herself out of her chair. "How about next time, we all meet here beforehand? Then I'll have my car here and Harm won't have to do any extra driving."

Mac nodded. "Whatever. Can I go to sleep now?"

Harm let out a small laugh. "Go to bed, Marine."

"Go home, Sailor. Drive carefully."

"I will," Harm said as he led Denise out of the apartment.

A minute later, Mac turned to Jen, who like her, had her head leaning back on the cushion of the couch, her eyes closed, "Seriously, if you don't want to drive home, you can stay. I have an extra toothbrush."

Jen turned and looked at Mac. "You sure?"

"You never know when you'll need a spare toothbrush," she said, smiling.

Jen smiled back, "Thanks."

"It'll be like old times," Mac said with a smile.

Jen giggled. "I guess it will, except I'm not your prisoner now."

"No," Mac agreed, "you're not. You've come a long way, Jen. I'm proud of you."

"Thank you," Jen responded, almost blushing.

Mac stayed where she was for a moment longer before getting to her feet. Jen got up as well and followed Mac into her bedroom. While Jen brushed her teeth, Mac laid out some sheets and blankets on the couch and set up a pillow. Mac said goodnight to Jen and collapsed into her own bed.


	8. Chapter 8

JAG Headquarters  
Falls Church, Virginia  
Tuesday, October 14, 2003  
1334 Hours (local)

The weekend before had been as unsuccessful at the club as the previous one. Well, unsuccessful in terms of the case, but Mac and Jen had certainly had their egos inflated by the male attention. Harm and Denise had not done any making out, but still acted very much the couple at the club. All of them, however, were getting frustrated with the lack of results. As of yet, most of the men Jen had talked to were more interested in getting her home than what she did. And all of those men could pretty much be ruled out as the killer, as the previous victims had only attended the club once, while they were home on leave, and Jen had attended the club twice and many of the men were regulars. But Harm, Mac, and Denise were not jumping to any conclusions.

Mac was standing in the bullpen flipping through the folders Bud had just handed her. She looked up and noticed the stranger immediately. The man was wandering around the desks in the bullpen, he had dark hair, dark eyes, and was probably only about two or three inches shorter than Harm, although he was heavier set. Moving towards him, Mac asked, "Can I help you?" He was dressed in civilian attire and stuck out like a sore thumb.

"Yes, I'm looking for Commander Harmon Rabb," he said firmly.

"He's in court," Mac said. "Did you have an appointment?"

"No, I just thought I'd drop by and see him."

"Well, if you give me your name I'd be happy to tell him that you stopped by," Mac offered, trying to be helpful.

The man looked around for a moment before answering. "Actually, if I could, I'd like to wait for him. It is kind of important that I see him. Today."

"I don't know when he'll be out of court, so it might be a rather long wait. I'd suggest leaving and letting him get back to you."

"No," the man insisted, offering Mac a smile. "I'd rather wait." He stuck his hand out to shake Mac's. "The name is Pat. Pat West."

Mac hesitated before shaking his hand. West. She glanced down and noticed the wedding band on his hand. The phone call while they were talking to Johnson's mom that day, Denise's evasion of the topic of marriage, it all came together at once for Mac. She was shaking hands with Detective Denise West's husband. Glancing back up to make eye contact again, she noticed the fire in them. Suddenly, Mac _knew_ that Harm had slept with Denise, any doubt she had was now erased. "Nice to meet you. Colonel MacKenzie," Mac said, still stunned at what she now knew.

At that moment, Harm entered the doors and started across the bullpen. Mac had to get West out of there now. "Really," Mac began, "he could be there all day. If it is that important, I'd suggest setting up an appointment. I'll tell him that you stopped by and he'll get back to you." Please, she was thinking, go away.

Before West could respond, Harm approached the pair. "Everything okay, Mac?" he asked.

"Yes," Mac began. "This is Pat West and he was looking for Harm, who is-"

Harm cut her off, not catching what she was about to say. "You're funny, Mac. I'm right here."

Mac cringed.

West looked from Mac to Harm and back again. Looking at Harm, he said, "You asshole!"

"Whoa, buddy, you want to power down and tell me what this is about?"

"It's about Denise. My _wife_ ," he said, the anger seeping into his words.

"Your wife?" Harm said, understanding dawning on him.

"That you slept with."

"I…" Harm began. "I didn't know. She never said…"

"That's right. Blame her." West was staring Harm in the eyes.

Harm met his gaze. He was prepared to follow this wherever it went. "I wouldn't have if I had known…"

Mac tried to interrupt, "Guys, look, maybe we could take this elsewhere, over drinks, and talk…"

West didn't say anything. He just swung at Harm, hitting him square in the jaw. Harm took a stumbling step back and West raised his fist to strike again.

"Stop!" Mac yelled, taking the moment to jump between the men. West swung again, and this time, his fist connected with the left side of Mac's face.

Harm quickly pushed Mac out of the way. "Stay out of this, Mac!" He then quickly got a swing in against West.

What happened next, no one knew for sure. The two men became a tangled mess of fighting bodies, punching where they could, each trying to subdue the other. Activity in the bullpen had come to a halt when West had called Harm an asshole. Mac was trying to separate the men and even with all of her Marine strength and training, she was no match for the two 200 pound-plus men determined to beat each other up. Shouts of "Stop!" were just as ineffective. Papers slid off of desks and fell to the floor, casualties of the battle. Desks were shoved around and people moved out of the way, reluctant to get involved in the war. Mac had her share of wounds, and nobody knew who had given them to her, West or Harm.

The Admiral heard the shuffle outside his office and quickly rose to his feet and left to see what was going on. The spectacle before him shocked him. "Attention on deck!" he yelled at the top of his lungs.

Everybody froze, including Harm, which gave West another chance to get a punch in, this one to Harm's stomach, doubling him over. Blood was running from the noses of both men, more blood was pouring from Harm's lower lip and West's upper lip, and they would both probably have black eyes. Harm's jaw would be sore from the initial punch for a while to come. After the last punch, West stopped as well.

"Colonel, my office, now! Coates, accompany Commander Rabb and get him cleaned up and then I want him in my office! And you," the Admiral said, turning his gaze to West, "I want you off of JAG property, now! Get somebody to escort him out! And I don't want to see you again! Whatever the problem is, it can be solved outside of work hours and off of JAG property!" The Admiral turned and strode into his office, expecting his orders to be obeyed.

Moments later, Mac entered the Admiral's office. He was standing behind his desk and he let her stand at attention for a moment before telling her to close the hatch and have a seat. He sat down behind his desk and grabbed a tissue for Mac to use to wipe up some of the blood that was running down her right cheek.

"Thank you, Sir," Mac said weakly.

The Admiral sighed heavily and leaned forward over his desk before he asked the question. "Colonel, can you shed some light for me on what just happened out there?"

"Well, Sir, I think the Commander might be better suited for that."

"I'm asking you, Colonel."

"The man came in, asked for the Commander, I told him he was in court, told him I'd tell the Commander that he stopped by, or he could make an appointment. When the Commander showed up, they exchanged a few words and he punched the Commander. After that, all hell broke loose."

"And what did they say?"

"Sir, I'd rather not say. I think it should be the Commander who tells you."

The Admiral sighed again and leaned back in his chair, very clearly unhappy.

"I do think the man was justified in being angry with the Commander, Admiral. But I don't believe that punching him was the way to go about it."

"Did this guy have a name?"

"Pat West."

"West? Isn't that the name of the Detective you guys are working with on the club murders?"

"Yes, Sir."

"But the Commander did not throw the first punch?"

"No, Sir. Mr. West hit first."

"Good. Hopefully he won't press assault charges."

"With all do respect, Admiral, I think Mr. West is the type to just take it outside and beat the sh- the crap out of the other person, not take it to court."

"You may be right, Colonel. Let's hope that's the case." There was a sharp knock at the door. "Enter."

Harm strode in, shutting the door behind him, and stood at attention in front of the Admiral's desk. He had a few bandages on his face covering the cuts he had acquired and in one hand, he held two bags of ice. "Commander Rabb, reporting as ordered, Sir."

The Admiral rose to his feet and walked around to stand in Harm's face.

Mac winced internally, knowing what was coming.

"Commander Rabb, is that a boxing ring outside of my office?"

"No, Sir."

"Were you trading punches with a civilian outside of my office?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Is punching anybody a manner appropriate for an Officer of the United States Navy to behave?"

"No, Sir."

"Then what in the hell were you doing out there?"

Harm remained silent.

"I asked you a question, Commander, and I expect an answer!"

"He hit me first."

"This is not middle school, Commander, and I do not care who hit who first!"

"Yes, Sir." Harm continued looking at a point just over the Admiral's shoulder.

"Do you have something else you want to add?"

"Yes, Sir."

"I'm listening."

"He hit Colonel MacKenzie when she tried to stop him from hitting me again. I had to hit back or be hit."

"You're making excuses, Commander. I don't want excuses. I want an explanation!"

"Yes, Sir."

The Admiral eyed Harm for a moment before he backed off. Returning behind his desk, he sat back down, and once again, leaned back in his chair. "At ease. Have a seat."

Harm visibly relaxed as he sat in the chair next to Mac. He tossed her one of the bags of ice. "For your eye."

Mac caught the bag and said quietly, "Thanks." She removed the tissue from her cheek, which she had been holding up the whole time. She held the bag of ice up to her left eye, which was already red and would be swelling soon.

Harm got a good look at her cheek. "You okay?" he asked. Without waiting for an answer, he continued, "It looks bad. Do you know how you got it?"

Mac glanced at the Admiral, who appeared to be amused at the question. "I'll be fine. I've had worse. But I believe my cheek and your Naval Academy ring got very well acquainted."

Harm glanced down at his ring and back up at Mac's cheek. "I'm sorry, Mac."

Before she could say anything, the Admiral interrupted, "Commander, would you care to tell me what led to you and Mr. West coming to blows?"

"With all do respect, Sir, no. It's a personal matter."

"It quit being personal when you decided there was a boxing ring out there."

Harm sighed. He really didn't want to go into this, especially in front of Mac. "Mr. West apparently came to see me. I was in court and I encountered him talking to Mac when I got back here. She said he was looking for me," Harm paused and looked at Mac, a puzzled expression on his face, "except she said he was looking for Harm."

The Admiral looked at Mac. "Is this true, Colonel?"

"Yes, Sir. Once I figured out who Mr. West was and why he wanted to speak to the Commander, I tried to warn him, let the Commander know what he was getting into, but I didn't get the chance."

Harm continued, "I introduced myself to Mr. West and he informed me that Denise, Detective West, was his wife." Harm stopped for a moment, unsure of how to go on.

"Continue," the Admiral urged.

Mac kept her eyes glued to Harm.

"Mr. West was angry with me because he believes that his wife and I had… an affair."

The Admiral leaned forward as he asked his next question, seeking the truth. He would only be satisfied with the truth. "And did you?"

Harm swallowed before he answered. His voice was suddenly quiet, in stark contrast to the tall, strong, and proud man he normally was. "Yes."

Mac turned away and looked down at her clasped hands.

The Admiral turned to her, "And you knew about this? You knew that was why Mr. West was here to see the Commander?"

Mac nodded as she answered, "Yes. That's why I tried to warn him, stop Harm from talking to Mr. West."

Harm turned to Mac as well. "You knew… everything?"

She nodded.

"How?" he asked.

"I didn't know for sure until Mr. West showed up. And then the little signs here and there, they just all added up." She still wasn't looking at him.

"But about the…" he couldn't bring himself to say it to her. He wasn't proud of his actions to begin with, but to know that he had very likely broken up a marriage, and that Mac knew and had kept quiet, was more guilt than he was prepared to bear. He had hoped to keep her in the dark about the event.

"The affair?" She asked, turning to look in his direction.

Harm nodded.

Mac looked over Harm's shoulder at a figure of a naval ship on the mantle above the fireplace. It only took one sentence: "I went to the club that night the two of you went."

"You knew, but you didn't say anything?"

Mac made eye contact. "It wasn't my place to say anything. It's your life."

Harm could see only one thing in Mac's eyes: emptiness. Her normally brown eyes were so expressive, betraying what she was feeling inside. At times in the past he had felt like he was drowning in those chocolate depths, but now, they were empty. It chilled Harm's soul.

The Admiral shook his head. "Colonel, you're dismissed."

Mac rose to her feet and quietly left the office, thankful that she wasn't in Harm's shoes, and despite all the hurt she felt, she felt sorry for him. She walked back to her office under the scrutiny of her friends and coworkers, but no one stopped to ask her questions. She left the door to her office open as she tried to return to work, wanting to hide, but at the same time, she didn't want anybody to think she was hurting or trying to hide.

Twenty minutes later, there was a soft knock on her doorframe. She looked up and met Harm's gaze.

"Can we talk?" he asked as he entered, pulling the door shut behind him, not waiting for an answer.

"About what?"

"About what happened."

"I was there, Harm. I saw what happened. You and Mr. West got into a fight over a woman. And he has every reason to be angry at you because of who that woman is."

"Not that. I know you were there."

"Then what?"

"I wanted to talk to you about what happened before that, Mac."

"Don't you have work to do?" she asked him angrily, glancing at her own pile of work.

"The Admiral ordered me to go home for the day."

"I don't know what there is to talk about. I know what happened that night. I saw the two of you in the club. I saw all that I needed to see."

"You don't know what happened, Mac. You haven't heard everything."

"I don't need to hear anything else, Harm." She was fighting a battle to keep her tears at bay, determined to keep the hurting part of her hidden from Harm's view. So far, she was winning. "I saw what I saw at the club and I heard what I heard in the Admiral's office. When Mr. West showed up, I knew that I was right in my suspicions. You slept with her, Harm."

Harm sighed and shook his head.

"You didn't sleep with her? That's not the impression I got."

"Just let me explain…"

"I don't want to listen to you. I don't want to hear what you have to say. What I do want is for you to just leave. Just get out of my office and go home. Just forget that anything ever happened, because I already have."

Harm lowered his head in defeat. He knew better than to try to talk to her now. He had learned in the past that when she wasn't listening, things only got worse. It had taken many years, it had nearly cost him his career and Mac her life, but he finally learned that he could only talk to her when she listened. He backed up and left her office, pulling the door shut behind him, leaving her without a good-bye.

Mac returned to her work, blinking back the tears, unwilling to give in. Half an hour later, there was another knock at the door. "Enter," Mac called absently.

The Admiral stepped in and Mac immediately rose to her feet. The Admiral gestured for her to sit down as he closed the door behind him. It was uncommon for him to stop and talk within their offices like this, so Mac was curious. "Are you okay, Colonel?" he asked.

"I'm fine, Admiral," Mac responded weakly. "It's just a cut and a black eye. I've been through worse."

"I wasn't referring to your physical injuries," the Admiral said firmly.

Mac sighed. She didn't think he had been. "I'm fine, Sir. Really."

The Admiral nodded, expecting that response. "Go home, Mac."

"Am I being punished, Sir?"

He shook his head. "No. But it has been a rough day and your eye will probably get worse before it gets better."

"It's just a bruise, Sir. The ice helped."

"And your cheek?"

"I cleaned it out in the ladies room. I don't think it needs medical attention."

The Admiral nodded. "Well, the day is yours if you choose to go home. And if when you do leave you need a ride because of your eye, I'm sure we can find somebody willing. Even if I have to order them," he offered with a smile.

Mac nodded. "Thank you, Sir, but I'll be able to drive."

"I'd rather you get home safely than make an issue out of being able to drive. And that is an order," the Admiral said with a frown.

"Yes, Sir," Mac said.

"And if you need anything, we are all here, Mac," the Admiral said as he rose to his feet.

"I appreciate it, Admiral," Mac said with a genuine smile as he left the office.

xxxxx

Mac's Apartment  
Georgetown  
Washington, D.C.  
Tuesday, October 14, 2003  
1957 Hours (local)

Mac sank down into the tub of bubbles. She had left work earlier than normal and brought some of it home with her. She was tired of the looks people were giving her. And she wanted to get out of there before the Admiral made her get a ride home. Once she entered her apartment, she turned the ringer off on her phones and turned the volume down on her answering machine. She didn't want to be disturbed. She just wanted to be left alone and forget the day.

She knew Harm would try and call her to talk. She really didn't want to talk to him. Not yet. And sure enough, an hour later, as she passed through her bedroom, the message waiting light was flashing on her answering machine. She didn't want to check the message. She didn't want to know, so she ignored it, choosing to work on some of her cases.


	9. Chapter 9

JAG Headquarters  
Falls Church, Virginia  
Wednesday, October 15, 2003  
0903 Hours (local)

Mac had managed to avoid Harm so far that morning, but the Admiral had called staff call at 0900. He himself was running a few minutes late as he got off the phone with the SecNav. This put him in an even worse mood than he was already in. But he wanted to address the events of the previous afternoon. He sighed heavily as he sat down. "What went on in this office yesterday afternoon was not acceptable. The parties concerned have already been dealt with," he said, looking at Harm. "Behavior like that in this office will not be tolerated. Is that understood?"

A round of "Yes, Sir," went up from the table.

"Should anyone see Mr. West on these premises again, I want to be notified and I want him to be secured by the MPs."

"Yes, Sir," was once again heard around the table.

"As for what occurred here yesterday, I don't want it to go outside of this office. It had no business occurring here, but it did. We do not need to give the Navy, or the Marine Corps," he said, glancing at Mac, "any bad press. And lawyers already have a bad reputation; they don't need any help," he said with a smile.

He was rewarded with a few smiles.

"Okay. Dismissed. Colonel, Commander Rabb, Petty Officer Coates, stay here." Everybody else rose and exited the room as ordered with the exception of Harm, Mac, and Jen. "I have spoken to Detective West and her superiors at D.C. Police. Detective West apologized for what occurred yesterday. And for any misleading that may have been done on her part," he said, once again looking pointedly at Harm. "After talking to her superiors, we have decided to leave her on the case. We decided this based on her solve-rate, she's very good, and she worked with the original case and is familiar with the material. D.C. Police are swamped and it was easier to leave her on the case than to put some one new on." The Admiral stopped speaking, providing an opening for questions.

Jen looked at Harm and Mac. Mac was staring pointedly at anything, other than Harm. And Harm seemed desperate to make eye contact with Mac. Neither of them seemed inclined to speak up, so Jen spoke. "Sir, what about the undercover operation at the club?"

"That will continue. However, you will not be participating this weekend."

"Why is that, Sir?" Jen asked again.

"Two reasons. We want to let this issue die down a little bit, give some time and space to the parties involved. And," the Admiral sighed before he continued, "Meredith and I are holding a get-together this Saturday night. Call it a late engagement party, but we were all a little busy last spring," he finished with a smile.

Mac turned to the Admiral, "That's wonderful, Sir."

The Admiral continued smiling, "Thank you, Colonel. You are all expected to attend, casual civilian attire. Keep it to yourself for a while until I make a general announcement."

The three of them nodded. Harm asked, "When we do go back to the club, will Detective West be coming with us?"

The Admiral nodded, "Yes, she will. It is a part of her job, regardless of what took place between the two of you."

Mac looked down at her hands.

"Do you have a problem with that, Colonel?" the Admiral asked.

"No, Sir," she said, looking back up at the Admiral. She sighed heavily and turned to glance at Jen. Neither one of them had grown up in pleasant homes, and if anyone understood what Mac was thinking, it would be Jen. And as much as she disliked the present situation, she was concerned for a fellow human being, and woman. "I just don't know if that is the wisest thing for Detective West."

"Are you questioning my decision?" the Admiral asked, glaring at Mac.

"No, Admiral," Mac responded, shaking her head, "But if Detective West's husband is the sort of man who will come into an office building, a military office building no less, and attack a man because he thinks he's sleeping with his wife, then what is he going to do to his wife? Especially when she goes out with the man with whom she had the affair again?"

"There is no history of abuse in their relationship," the Admiral said.

Jen spoke up, "Sir, I have to agree with the Colonel. Mr. West has shown violent tendencies. And previous cases of abuse may not have been reported or the Detective may just be hiding it. A lot of women do."

The Admiral regarded the two women. They had a point, and both of them had been through abusive situations in the past. "There's nothing I can do. It has been decided. If things change in the Detective's circumstances, we'll deal with it. For now, this is how it is."

"Understood," Mac responded.

"Good," the Admiral nodded. "Then we're done here. Dismissed."

After they had left the conference room, Harm caught up to Mac. "Mac, wait."

Mac turned around to face him.

"Can we talk about this?"

"Why, Harm? What is there to say?" Mac continued walking to her office and Harm followed her.

Once inside her office, he shut the door behind him. "I think some things need to be said."

"Harm, you slept with her. It's a simple thing, don't complicate it. It doesn't matter if she's married or not, you slept with her."

"It was only that one time, Mac."

Mac glared at Harm and crossed her arms over her chest. "A one-night stand, Harm?"

"I guess so." He hadn't really thought about it like that. "It just wasn't supposed to mean anything. It happened."

"Yeah, it did. And that's all that matters."

"Why are you so angry about this?"

Mac turned away. "I don't want to get into this, Harm. Just go."

"I think we need to talk about this. You are obviously upset about it."

"As you once said it yourself, Harm, this is not a marriage. I don't have to listen. I don't have to talk to you."

"So that's it, end of conversation?"

"Yes."

Harm turned and left her office, pulling the door shut behind him, letting it slam.

xxxxx

Mac's Apartment  
Georgetown  
Washington, D.C.  
Wednesday, October 15, 2003  
2135 Hours (local)

He wouldn't go away. Couldn't the man take a hint? She wasn't answering the door because she didn't want to talk to him. She had told him that at work. She wasn't ready to deal with Harm, with the pain he had caused her. Perhaps if she ignored it long enough, it would go away. Although, apparently, he wasn't just going to go away. He was still knocking, almost pounding at her door, calling her name through the woodwork.

Finally, Mac got up off the couch and stormed over to the door. She yanked it open and said, "Yes?"

Harm's fist was still in the air, poised to knock again. He was startled by the open door. For a moment, he said nothing. "I want to talk, Mac."

"Well, I don't, so go home." She turned to close the door, but Harm stopped her.

"Please, Mac," he said, almost begging.

Mac relented and backed up, allowing him to enter.

He entered the room and stopped in the middle, suddenly unsure of what to say.

Mac closed the door and returned to the couch, shutting off the TV and focusing her gaze on Harm.

Standing in the center of the room, he noticed the missing picture of the two of them in Afghanistan on her mantel. "What happened to the picture?" he asked.

"It broke."

"Oh." The same picture that he kept beside his bed had broken a few weeks ago. "So, what did you want to say?"

Harm turned to her for a moment before he started pacing the room. "I don't know how to say this, Mac. Somehow, things just spiraled out of control. What happened with Denise, it wasn't supposed to happen."

"But it did."

"Yes, it did. I didn't go out with Denise seeking to… well, to have sex with her." He decided to be brutally honest with this. "And I don't think that was her intent. But something happened. I don't really know how to explain it, the atmosphere of the club, but it got to us. It started out as just a touch, then a little kiss, and then… one thing led to another."

"You took her home."

"Yes. It was like I quit thinking, my mind shut off. I didn't even think about taking her back to her place. And I didn't know that she was married. If I had, I never would have slept with her."

"What about her husband? Where was he?"

"I don't know. He wasn't there when I went to pick her up to go to the club. She never mentioned him. But I never meant for it to happen. I'm not even quite sure how, or why, it happened."

Mac shook her head angrily.

He paused for a moment in both his talking and his pacing and once again, turned his gaze to Mac. "How come you didn't tell me you went to the club that night?

"Why should I? I didn't stay very long; just long enough to see you and her swapping bodily fluid in the corner like two horny teenagers. And what business is it of mine who you sleep with? So, I didn't tell you," she finished weakly.

"But you knew about it. That's why you backed away… that night… at my apartment?" he asked, not sure if he really wanted to know or not.

Mac only nodded.

Harm's heart felt heavy, swollen with guilt. "I wish you had said something, Mac. We could have straightened this out sooner." Harm paused for a moment, thinking. He thought he knew what he had wanted to say to Mac when he arrived, but it was slowly slipping away from him.

"It wouldn't have mattered, Harm. It wouldn't change anything. You still slept with her."

"And why does it bug you so much that I slept with her?" He was trying to keep the confusion and frustration out of his voice, but it was a losing battle.

Mac sighed. She was getting angrier by the second. "It isn't so much that you slept with her. It does piss me off, but you can't even tell me that she was a beautiful woman and you were attracted to her! You can't admit to being a man and just wanting sex! You have to blame it on the club, your brain shutting down, anything, but you can't take responsibility for it!" Mac had risen to her feet and begun pacing in the middle of her tirade.

Harm watched her as she moved across the carpet, growing every bit as angry as she was. "You want me to take responsibility for it? Okay, I had sex with her! She is an attractive woman and it has been a long time, so I did want sex! Okay? Is that what you want to hear?" He was practically yelling by this point.

Mac stopped her pacing and glared at him. "And if she wasn't married? Would it have been a one night stand or would she be waiting for you now back at your place?"

"This marriage thing bugs you, doesn't it?" he asked.

"Yes, it does. I always though you were above sleeping with married women, too much of a Boy Scout."

"I didn't know she was married. And aren't you being hypocritical? What about Farrow and Dalton? You were married at the time! And how many other men did you sleep with while you were married to Chris?" Harm asked angrily.

Mac's mouth dropped open. How dare he have the nerve to ask such a question? What business was it of his to know how many men she had slept with? Before she had the chance to answer, he cut her off.

"I don't care! You aren't a saint, Mac, so you have no right to judge me for making a mistake. And you want to talk about marriage? What about Brumby? Would you have stayed faithful to him? Or would you have spread your legs for the first man that came along? What about Chegwidden? You ever sleep with him since, based on Farrow, you like to sleep with your superior officers?"

She wasn't even going to dignify that with an answer. "Are you calling me a slut?" Mac asked, incredulous.

"Are you? Would you have done it Mac, cheated on Brumby?"

"No! It was different with Mic. He wasn't Chris."

"What about me, Mac? What about me?" Harm asked angrily, his eyes narrowed, pointing to himself in his chest with his index finger. "If I had come to you and offered to have sex with you, would you have cheated on Brumby then?"

"No," Mac responded, her voice calm and level, even though she wasn't convinced of her answer. "And why are you asking me this? What does it matter?"

Harm started pacing again. "I'll get to my point, Counselor. So, you wouldn't have strayed from Brumby, not even with me?"

"I told you I wouldn't. I loved him. It wasn't like it was with Chris."

"Then what about your engagement party? What if I had come to you that night, after you sent Brumby home? Would you have done it then?"

"No," Mac said, shaking her head.

"Ha!" Harm said, laughing loudly. "I find that hard to believe! Considering that you were kissing me on the Admiral's porch."

"It was a kiss goodbye. You're the one that followed me, continued it."

"You didn't back away. I seem to remember you kissing me back. I can still remember the way you tasted, the way you smelled, the way your tongue felt inside my mouth, the way mine felt inside yours, the softness of your skin under my jacket. I remember it all, Mac. It has been burned into my brain forever. And I seem to remember inside, after the kiss, you stood closer to me than your own fiancé. I noticed it and Renee noticed it. She asked me later what went on out there. She knew something happened, just by the way we stood inside."

"And what about Renee? As you just pointed out, you were kissing me. She was inside waiting for you. You weren't very loyal yourself!" Mac was now on the defensive.

"I wasn't engaged to her. But do you get it, Mac? You have no room to judge me for sleeping with a married woman! A woman who I honestly didn't know was married!"

"I wasn't judging you, Harm!"

"It sure felt like you were!"

"I wasn't," she said quieter. She took a deep, calming breath and turned away from him. The situation was rapidly getting out of control.

Harm seemed to sense this as he backed up a few steps and also took a deep breath. "If you weren't judging me, than why are you so upset?" he asked in a calmer tone.

Mac kept her back to him. "Because _you_ had sex with _her_."

Harm didn't know what to say.

"I don't have any right to know who you sleep with. I don't need to know your sex life. It isn't my business. You don't need to know my mine. But, seeing it, practically flaunted in my face…" she trailed off as she turned around to face him, tears burning a path down her cheeks.

"That's why I didn't want you to know," he said softly, as he took a step closer to her. He hated to see her cry.

"And what kind of a relationship would that build, Harm? You would always have that lie hanging over your head."

"Is that what you want? A relationship?"

"I did. And I thought we were working towards it. I thought you wanted it, too."

"I did, Mac. I still do. What happened with Denise, it shouldn't have happened. I regret that it happened, for so many reasons. I wish I could take it back, undo the whole night, but I can't. But I still want that, a relationship, with you."

Mac shook her head. "I can't, Harm."

"Why?" he asked.

Mac looked away, down at her feet. "There's nothing left, Harm. This went too deep. And it isn't because she's married. I know I'm no saint, I accepted that a long time ago. I thought you had, too. I didn't think you'd ever bring it up to hurt me."

"I'm sorry about that."

Mac shook her head again and looked back up at Harm. "But don't you see? You were willing to lie to me. You want a relationship, but you slept with another woman. Had we been in a relationship, would you have stayed faithful?"

She had a point. He had been willing to lie to her. It was one thing to lie for her, but another thing to lie _to_ her.

"At my engagement party, I asked you how long I was supposed to wait. You said, 'As long as it takes.' I did, Harm. I've been waiting. And you went to another woman. That is what is tearing me up. That is why seeing you, knowing you were with Denise, hurt so bad."

"And what about Webb? In Paraguay? You kissed him. How was I supposed to interpret that? You kiss him goodbye, but I don't even get a thank you?"

Mac sighed. "Clay was dying. I wasn't sure he would live. I wanted to give him something to hold on to. And we got very close down there. He is the only one that knows what it was like to go through that. It was a kiss goodbye. I tried that with you, once, but it got out of hand. Besides, you weren't supposed to see it."

"So, you were willing to lie to me as well?"

"I guess so," Mac said, once again looking at her feet.

"Did you lie about Brumby, too?" Harm asked.

"What do you mean?"

"Did you really love him?"

"Yeah," she paused. "Enough to marry him."

"Then why didn't you go after him?"

"I did. I went to the airport. He knew I was there. He got on the plane anyway."

"Why didn't you follow him?"

"What was I supposed to do, Harm? Run screaming through the airport after him? It was bad enough I was running and crying. I was attracting enough attention. If I tried something like that now, I'd probably get shot."

"You could have bought a ticket, taken another flight. If I loved a woman enough to marry her, I'd fly anywhere in the world to bring her back," Harm said, looking Mac in the eye.

Mac looked away, thinking about Paraguay. She couldn't take the intensity of his gaze. "Did you want me to go after him?"

"This isn't about me."

"Yes it is. That's why he left. Because I went to you. And I'm willing to bet that he knew that when I left the airport that I went back to you."

"And why did you come to me?"

"Because you were my best friend. I needed one right then. You were there. Until Renee showed up…" Mac turned away.

"Her father died, Mac. I had to be there for her."

"I know. I don't begrudge you for that. But I was lonely, and I was hurt. I had no one else to go to."

Harm was silent. Once again, he didn't know what to say.

Mac turned away from him, also unsure of what to say. She took a seat on the couch and placed her head in her hands.

"So, where does this leave us?" Harm asked.

"I don't know."

"At the beginning?"

"We tried that once and look where it got us."

"Can I ask you something?" Harm asked suddenly.

"Haven't you been asking questions since you got here?"

"Why Webb? After Paraguay?"

"Why bring this up, Harm? Haven't we done enough damage already?" She looked up at him with fresh tears in her eyes.

"I want to know. I gave up everything for you, the Navy, my career, I was willing to give up my life to get you back, and you went to Webb. Why?"

"He was there. He knew what it was like to go through what we had been through. He didn't just say he was willing to die for me, he almost went through with it. He was hanging by a thread when you and Gunny showed up. He gave me attention. He wasn't afraid to say how he felt or what he wanted. I knew where I stood with him. And he wasn't going to run from a relationship with me."

Harm sighed and paced a few steps. "I gave up everything and I didn't get a thank you. I saved both Webb and yourself, and you never said thanks. What did I do it for? Why did I suffer for a few months with the Admiral's wrath for leaving, again, when I was just a few hours shy of officially being a civilian? I did it for you, Mac."

"I know."

"Then…" Harm stopped to look at her. She looked like a broken woman who had lost everything.

"I never thanked you for that?"

"No."

"Thank you."

"How come it took so long for that?"

Mac looked up at him. "I don't know."

"I felt like you resented me for doing it for a while."

"I guess I did."

"But…" Harm trailed off.

"When I was down there with Clay, he treated me so well. Better than Mic, who was a bit controlling, and Dalton, who didn't respect me. I wasn't sure of what I was feeling. And then you come in, the knight in shining armor, and saved all of our asses. I was on a mission, I'm a Marine, and I still needed you to tidy things up. I failed in what I was supposed to be doing. Sure, I had my life, but I was a failure."

"Don't look at it like that, Mac. You know how Webb's missions go."

"And knowing that, I went willingly with him. I knew how dangerous it was, but I went anyway. I thought I could do it and I couldn't. I guess that tells you something about my judgment."

"We all make mistakes."

Mac nodded.

"Hell, I made one when I left to return to flying."

"At least that didn't almost get you killed and nearly cost your best friend his career."

"No, but it nearly cost me my best friend."

Mac looked up at him, her eyes expressing a curiosity.

"I came back and you were completely indifferent to me. You had moved on. Brumby had taken my place. I wanted my best friend back, but I didn't know how to do that."

"You can't expect life to stand still and wait for you."

"I didn't. I just thought that we were still friends. I guess I should have realized that that wasn't really the case when you got promoted and you didn't tell me."

"I didn't know how."

"Easy. You could have said, 'Guess what, Harm? I got promoted!' I would have been happy for you."

"I didn't want to make you feel bad."

"I wouldn't have. It was my choice to leave and miss that opportunity. What made me feel bad was coming back and feeling like my best friend had left me. And to see someone else in my place."

"He wasn't in your place, Harm. You're the one who walked away."

"I felt like he was. And then you and him started your relationship…" he trailed off again.

"We didn't seem to be going anywhere. Especially after we went to Australia."

"You didn't really give me a chance."

"I didn't give you a chance?" Mac scoffed. "What do you think that was in Sydney Harbor?" she asked angrily.

"I didn't know. I still don't what that was. You blindsided me. It was a total change of character for you," Harm defended himself. "And how was I supposed to feel when you accepted Brumby's ring the next day?"

"You were supposed to realize that you could lose me!"

"So you took it to make me jealous?"

"Yes. No. I took it because he was willing to give it. He was willing to make a commitment to me. A commitment that you obviously couldn't. Still can't. It took a fake wedding for a dying woman for you to realize what commitment really is! And it wasn't real! How can you learn about commitment from something so… false?"

"It was still pretty scary to say those words! Even if I didn't mean them."

"Then you still don't know what commitment is."

"And you do? How did your marriage turn out? And what about your last engagement?"

Mac rose up off the couch and threw her arms up in the air. "We're done! We're running in circles!" She walked past Harm towards the bedroom.

Harm watched her go.

A minute later she returned. "You haven't left yet?"

"Why would I leave?"

"Because that's what you do. You run away if you don't want to deal with it."

"And you don't?"

"Just get out!"

Harm strode across the room to the door. As he reached out to open it, he turned back to Mac. "Now who is running away?" He quickly stepped into the hallway and slammed the door shut behind him. A moment later he heard Mac's scream of frustration and a soft thump on the door, like she had thrown something. "We aren't finished with this, yet, Mac!" he yelled through the door before he turned and left.


	10. Chapter 10

JAG Headquarters  
Falls Church, Virginia  
Thursday, October 16, 2003  
1047 Hours (local)

"Lieutenant Colonel MacKenzie," Mac answered her phone.

"Mac, it's Denise."

"What do you want?" Mac said curtly.

"I wanted to make sure that you guys knew I was still on the case but we weren't going to go to the club this weekend."

"We were informed."

"Good. Um… listen, I'm really sorry about everything."

"You don't need to apologize to me, Denise. It was your choice."

"I didn't want to cause any problems between you and Harm. You said that you never did anything, but I can't help to feel that there is something between you."

"No, there's not. And there have been problems between us for a while."

"I just didn't want to make it worse."

"Well, you did. Are we done?"

"I guess so," Denise said. "I'm sorry, Mac, I really am."

"Have a nice day," Mac said icily as she hung up. She rose to her feet and picked up a few files. Walking to Harm's office, she knocked on his door. "Commander?" she called.

Harm looked up. "Yes?"

Mac strode into the office and handed the files over. "Motions and witness lists."

"Mac," Harm began.

"You want to hurl more insults at me, Harm? 'Cause if you do, I'd like the chance to throw some back at you. That whole ambushing thing you did last night wasn't very fair."

"I didn't want it to turn out like that last night."

"Does anything you do work out like you want?"

"Well, I do win some cases…" Harm trailed off, offering Mac a peaceful smile.

"Funny," Mac said, not smiling.

"No. I actually wanted to apologize for some of the things I said last night."

"Well, it's not accepted," Mac responded.

"Okay," Harm said, suddenly uncertain. He looked down at the information Mac had given him and pulled out one of the folders. "Thanks, for these. I was on my way over to the brig to talk to Roland."

"Don't get lost," Mac said as she turned to go.

"Fat chance. I learned my way around pretty well while I was there, not that you would know."

Mac turned around to him, her eyes blazing. "Are you looking to start something again?"

"No."

"It sounded like you were."

"Then what was that 'Don't get lost,' comment about?"

"I simply meant don't get lost."

"You tend to simplify things, Mac. Tell me what you meant."

Mac simply walked out of his office and back to hers. A moment later, he was in there with her, the door shut.

"You wouldn't know anything about my time in the brig, would you? You never came to visit, you never offered me any encouraging words or showed your support, and when I got out, you never asked me how I was!"

"You're complicating things, Harm."

"Why didn't you? I didn't have a friend in the world while I was in there."

"We were ordered not to."

"And that's it? You were ordered not to? That wouldn't have stopped me, Mac. I would have at least come in to lend you support."

Mac just glared at Harm.

"You know what, Mac? I don't know why I was so worried about you and Brumby and then you and Webb. You would have either gotten tired of them or driven them crazy. 'Cause you drive me crazy and I've never even been in a relationship with you. Perhaps I should be grateful!" Harm turned on his heel and left the office, leaving Mac flustered at her desk.

"I hate you, Harmon Rabb," she growled in a low voice.

Sturgis strode in to talk to her for a moment. "That's certainly a change," he said, smiling.

"Get out," Mac growled to him, her eyes narrowed.

Sturgis could see she meant business so he handed her a folder and left, pulling the door shut behind him.

xxxxx

Admiral Chegwidden's House  
McLean, Virginia  
Saturday, October 18, 2003  
2138 Hours (local)

The party had been going well. There had been no fistfights, no tears, no shouting, no drunken behavior, and everyone seemed happy. Meredith and the Admiral were glowing. Meredith may have been a little flighty and strange, but she was full of personality and made the Admiral happy. Harriet had come with Bud, leaving the kids at home, but more than happy to tell stories of their two-month-old son, James Kirk, and little AJ. Mac and Jen had grown closer during the undercover operation and the two of them spent some time talking. But Harm and Mac hadn't exchanged a word. If this was noticed by anyone, no one said anything.

Mac had shown up wearing a pale purple sweater with long sleeves and a v-cut neck, and a black skirt that fell to just above her knees. A pair of black heels and a pearl necklace completed the outfit. She stepped out the front door for a breath of fresh air. As she was leaning against a post, she wasn't surprised to hear the door open behind her or hear Harm's familiar footsteps. "You look nice tonight," he said.

Without turning around, Mac responded, "So do you." He had shown up wearing a simple suit: black jacket, tie and pants, and a white shirt. She could close her eyes and the image of him was imprinted on the back of her eyelids.

He moved behind her and stood close to her. Mac could feel the warmth of his body. "How did we get to this, Mac?"

"I don't know," she responded sadly.

For a few minutes, they were both silent. "He seems happy in there," Harm stated simply.

"The Admiral?"

"Yeah."

"He does seem happy. They both do. And Bud and Harriet seem very happy."

"Harriet is glowing. I think she misses work, though."

"I don't think she minds staying home with the kids."

"No. She just seems happy."

"They deserve to be happy."

Harm was silent for a moment, carefully thinking about what he was going to say next. "So do we."

Mac turned around to face him. She saw the love reflected in his eyes. "Don't start this again, Harm. Please."

He shook his head. "I don't want to."

Mac looked away again. Just talking to him made her sad. Looking out over the yard she said, "I want to be happy, Harm."

"I want you to be happy, too, Mac."

"Then why is it so hard to find? I thought I knew what would make me happy, but now I'm not so sure."

"You aren't happy? At all?"

"Sometimes I am. I've got a good career, a nice place, good friends. I love what I do and the people I work with. I thought I was happy. But lately, the last few weeks, it just all seemed to fall apart."

Harm reached out and placed a hand on her shoulder. "I'm sorry about all this. I'm sorry you've been drawn into the middle of it."

"Don't apologize, it's a sign of weakness."

Harm's grip on her shoulder tightened for a moment before he let go. He moved and sat down on the top step of the porch. "You always have a comeback for everything."

"I try," Mac smiled.

Harm was silent for a moment. "Funny how things change, isn't it? Remember the last time we were out on this porch?"

"My engagement party," Mac said softly, as she moved and sat down beside Harm.

"Yeah. That was an interesting night."

"And enlightening."

Harm turned to Mac with a question in his eyes.

"I never knew you saw me as a desirable woman."

"You never knew?"

Mac shook her head. "I always thought you just saw me as a Marine, a lawyer, a friend…"

Harm looked at Mac. "You couldn't have been more wrong, Mac. I've always thought you were a desirable woman."

"Always?" Mac asked, her voice unsure.

"Always. Still do."

Thinking back to the night a few weeks ago, Mac looked away, blushing.

Harm chuckled.

"What?" Mac asked, turning back to him.

"Nothing," Harm said with a grin. This time, he was the one blushing.

Mac smiled. "Oh no, it's something, and you're going to tell me."

Harm chuckled again as he shook his head. He was giving in and he knew it. "A couple years ago, I guess it was back when you and Brumby were engaged, I think it was before your engagement party, well… I had hit my head in the Admiral's office pretty hard and things just weren't making sense."

Mac nodded. She remembered the day he was talking about. He had been acting kind of funny. "I remember."

Harm looked at her with a sheepish grin. "I kept seeing things. The visions lasted for a couple days. And they were… strange. They all concerned you," he said, losing his grin.

Mac was now very curious. "Me?"

"Yup. You showed up at work in an evening gown and I don't remember what else. But the day after it happened, I woke up in the morning and," he paused, swallowing hard. "I can't believe I'm going to tell you this," he chuckled again. "And you stepped out of my shower, wet and wearing only a towel. You came over to me and sat down with me on the bed and said something about wanting to pick up where we left off the previous night. We leaned in to kiss and you said my name, I said yours, you know how these things go." Harm looked down at his hands dangling between his knees. He hadn't thought about that particular vision in quite some time, but now that he was, it was coming back to him clearly.

"Oh, God," Mac groaned, smiling.

"Wait, it gets better. Just before we kiss, Renee asked me, 'Did you just call me Mac?'"

Mac burst out laughing. She was blushing and shaking her head, a smile on her lips. "What did you say?"

"I, of course, said I didn't, but I think she knew. I asked her why I would call her by your name. I knew the difference between the two of you. And then Renee asked me what those differences would be, other than that your…" he trailed for a moment, "boobs are bigger," he finished, quieter, looking away, blushing again.

Mac kept laughing, also blushing.

"Your turn," Harm said.

"What?"

"I told you an embarrassing moment, you have to tell me one. And since mine was about you, yours has to be about me."

"I don't have any," Mac said, shaking her head. She was thinking of one, but she didn't want to tell Harm.

"You're lying," he stated simply.

"No, I'm not," she insisted.

"Your mouth is doing that turning up thing."

Mac glared at him, smiling anyway. He knew her too well. "Okay. I guess this was after my engagement party. I was preparing to give a lecture about a court-martial back in the 1800s. I kept having dreams about what happened. The case was about a Commander unlawfully killing three of his men for mutiny. In my dreams, the Commander was Mic and you were one of the men killed for mutiny. It was weird and I couldn't figure out what it meant."

"Did you ever?" Harm asked her seriously.

"Not really. But it made me think about things. In one part of my dreams, I was on the stand to testify about my husband, Mic. When the lawyer, who was the Admiral, asked me if I loved him, I said I didn't know. It just made me pause and think about what I was doing. The whole thing was weird."

"No, not really. Our dreams are frequently made up of things in our life. I've been known to dream about the characters in books before. And work. Sometimes things become tangled up and wind together in ways they normally wouldn't. Dreaming about your lecture and your own questions about your marriage makes complete sense. They were both weighing heavily on your mind."

"I guess so."

"But that wasn't really an embarrassing situation, Mac. Try again," Harm said with a grin, trying to lighten the mood.

"Okay," Mac sighed. She thought for a moment before going on, "A couple years ago, Chloe was staying with me for a few days. You came by to tell me something, I don't even remember what anymore, and when you left, Chloe insisted that I was in love with you. But she also said that you were in love with me, too. And when she started singing that children's song, you know the one, 'Harm and Mac, sitting in a tree…' I thought I was going to kill the girl!"

Harm was laughing. "She said that? That you were in love with me?"

"Yeah."

"Was she right?"

Mac looked away, down at her feet. "Harm…"

"Never mind. We don't need to get into it tonight. This has been nice."

"It has been nice," Mac agreed.

"You remember that bet we made before the Jag-A-Thon?" Harm asked.

"Yes," Mac smiled.

"You put up a good run," he offered to her.

"Good run? I believe we tied."

"You had a head start."

"I would have been right with you anyway."

"Yeah, right," Harm scoffed.

"Okay, well, at least they didn't have to worry about me having a heart attack."

"I wasn't about to have a heart attack! And how did you know about that?"

"Harriet told me."

"I'll have to have a talk with her about that…"

Mac laughed. "Doesn't matter anyway. We both lost."

"To Sturgis."

They both dissolved into a fit of laughter.

When Harm quit laughing, he said, "The last couple of years have been pretty good, haven't they?"

"Yeah," Mac responded, smiling. "Although, that teasing you did to 'give away' those tickets to the Super Bowl wasn't very nice."

"It was fun, though." Harm glanced at Mac. "For me," he grinned.

"And you never had any intention of taking anyone but Skates."

"I needed a RIO. Besides, I dumped her in the ocean and she jumped me to bring me back, the least I could do was take her to the game."

"I guess. It still wasn't a very nice thing to do. And it drove me and Sturgis crazy!"

"How about you and your visions driving Sturgis crazy? At least I don't try to solve cases with crazy ideas."

"Hey, those crazy ideas saved your life."

"Yes, they did. Thanks, by the way."

"Has it been worth it?"

"Compared to dying? You bet it was. I've enjoyed these last few years."

"Even when I was on the bench?"

"Even when you were on the bench. I got my turn, remember?"

"Yeah, sticking up for your pilot buddies," Mac remarked sarcastically.

"And that's why sitting on the bench isn't for me. But you got another chance."

"Sitting up there wasn't a whole lot of fun when you were traipsing through the snow in the mountains looking for the Admiral."

"From what I understand, you handled it well."

Mac snorted. "Yes, that's why everybody knew the latest news but me!"

"You know how that place is. Word gets around."

"But it's a good place to be."

Harm nodded. "It is. I'm glad the Admiral took me back, even if he gave me grief for it."

"I'm glad he took you back, too." Mac paused for a moment before asking, "What would you have done if he hadn't?"

"Apparently, I had a chance to work for the CIA."

"You, a spook?" Mac studied Harm, as if she were trying to imagine him as a spy. "Nah, I don't see it. Too much lying in the Agency. You're too honest."

"It may have worked, you never know."

"Thank goodness for that. If Clay's missions never go right, yours certainly wouldn't."

"And what's that supposed to mean?" Harm asked with a smile.

"Nothing. You're just impulsive. Every life is important to you and you'd risk yourself to save it. In the Agency, a human life is expendable."

"Don't I know it," Harm sighed. That's why he went after Mac, because the Agency wouldn't.

Mac was silent. She shivered in the cool evening air.

"Hey," Harm said, unbuttoning his jacket, "you're cold."

"Keep it. You'll be cold and I'll end up giving it back to you."

"Mac, take the jacket," he insisted, having pulled it off. She was right, though, it was chilly without it.

She shook her head. "We should probably go in anyway," she sighed.

Harm nodded, pulling the jacket back, but not putting it on. He was enjoying this time with Mac, where they were both on neutral ground, merely talking, not attacking. "How about that tribunal we did on the Seahawk?"

"That was interesting. I like to think that something good came out of it."

"We got some of the bad guys."

"Not all of them. They're still out there."

"We'll get them."

"Not soon enough," Mac said sadly. "What makes somebody hate so many people like that, just because they live a different lifestyle or believe something different?"

"I don't know, Mac. I don't think anybody does."

"Where does that hate come from?" She turned to Harm, her eyes on fire. "Where does that capacity for hate come from? Who causes it? What makes them hate so much that these people are willing to slam a plane into a building and kill themselves to kill thousands of innocent people? What makes someone shoot random people as they go about their lives?"

Harm just shook his head. He had asked himself the same questions a thousand times since September 11th and the sniper shootings, and he kept coming back to the same answer: he didn't know.

"I mean," Mac continued, "it's our differences that make us who we are and makes our world such an interesting place. I just don't get it," she finished weakly.

"You and me both."

Once again, they were silent as they watched a plane move slowly across the sky above the Admiral's front yard.

"Bud's doing good," Mac commented.

"Yes, he is. He's come a long way."

"He's tough."

Harm let out a chuckle. "I remember when he first joined JAG. He was just a kid in law school, trying to find his way in life."

"I think he found it."

"I'm proud of him," Harm stated simply.

"Me, too," Mac agreed. "Especially since Afghanistan."

"Lesser men wouldn't have survived it like he has. He got up, learned to walk again, fought to stay in the Navy and at JAG. He lost his confidence for a while, but he got it back. He got lucky out there that the mine didn't kill him, but only took his leg."

"We got lucky out there, too," Mac reminded him.

"Thanks to you. And the movies."

"And you say TV's bad for you," Mac teased.

"It wasn't just the mine. We got lucky with no radiation poisoning and only minor injuries from the air strikes."

"We were lucky. A lot of people weren't so lucky out there." Mac paused for a moment and looked up at the stars above. "It was incredibly beautiful that night, under the stars, before the air strikes."

Harm turned to look at Mac. "It was. Too bad it didn't last."

Mac turned to look at Harm, an expression on her face close to regret. "What would have happened, if those planes hadn't dropped the bombs?"

Harm looked down, breaking the gaze. "I don't know, Mac." He looked back up at her and asked, "What did you want to happen?"

Mac smiled sweetly and shook her head softly. "I'm not going to get into it." She was silent for a moment as she gazed into the blue-green depths of Harm's eyes. "I liked it, though, before it all fell apart."

"So did I. I was sorry the planes came and we had to keep moving all night."

Mac nodded. "But hey, we made it out. Lived to see another day."

"Batman and Robin."

Mac laughed lightly, breaking the eye contact. She shivered again.

"Take the jacket, Mac."

She shook her head.

Harm sighed. "Stubborn Marine."

"And that's why you like me," she teased.

"There's a lot of reasons why I like you. Your stubbornness merely annoys me."

"We're even then, cause you are just as stubborn."

He looked down at his feet. "What time is it?"

"Local or Zulu?" she asked with a smile.

"Local will be fine," he answered, returning her smile.

"2223."

"We should go in," Harm restated.

Mac nodded.

Neither one moved, and for a long time, they sat in silence. At one point, Sturgis opened the front door, looking for the pair. He spotted them, slightly leaning towards each other, Mac's head resting lightly on Harm's shoulder, and his head resting lightly on top of hers. Harm's hand rested gingerly on one of Mac's bare knees and one of her hands rested on one of his knees. Spread across their fronts, covering their hands, was Harm's jacket. Sturgis quietly shut the door, leaving the pair undisturbed.

xxxxx

 **AN: Thanks to those of you who have reviewed. This is a story I wrote probably 11 or 12 years ago, and if I were to write it today, I would change a few things in it, but the main plot would stay the same. As I've been posting it, I haven't touched it from its previous version. Seeing as it is a complete story, I am able to post quickly, when I can get this dinosaur of a laptop to cooperate. Reviews or not, I do hope you are enjoying the ride, bumps and all.**


	11. Chapter 11

Mac's Apartment  
Georgetown  
Washington, D.C.  
Saturday, October 25, 2003  
2147 Hours (local)

Harm was running a few minutes late, as usual. Mac had asked him to get to her apartment a little early so she could give him his birthday present. It was the big 4-0 and she had teased him mercilessly about it all week. Most of the week had gone pretty smoothly, although there had been a few awkward moments between Harm and Mac. And no one had heard anymore from Denise, so they assumed all plans were on. He knocked on the door and Mac answered it almost immediately.

She was already dressed for the club in a long, black, skirt that was very close to see-through. She had a skin-tight black sweater on top that was cut low enough to reveal some cleavage. Around her neck was a simple, black, choker.

Harm, too was already dressed for the club, wearing his standard black jeans and black button-down shirt.

Mac had a big smile on her face, something he hadn't seen much of recently. Her brown eyes were twinkling with happiness and mischief. Harm knew he was in trouble. "Happy Birthday," she greeted enthusiastically, adding, "old man," to the end.

Harm shook his head as he broke out into a smile. "Give me a break, Mac. How many men my age still go out to clubs almost every Saturday night?" he asked as he stepped into the apartment.

"I'll give you that one," she conceded. "You are the oldest guy I've seen there."

"Cute, Marine."

"I know," she said with a flirtatious smile as she walked away.

"So, where's my present?" he asked.

Mac shook her head. "Patience."

"Mac, it's my birthday. I've waited all day."

"Well, you're just going to have to wait a little longer," she teased. She had debated all week on how she wanted to do this. She was so afraid of having him over before they went out for the night, afraid they'd get into another argument and say some more hurtful things. But, she did want to give him his gifts and she knew he hadn't said anything about his birthday at the office. She had finally opted on his getting to her place about fifteen or twenty minutes early.

"Hmm…" Harm said, grinning. "Okay, it's been a few seconds," he declared. He loved it when they were like this, teasing, smiling, and laughing. It was like everything that had happened recently had slipped away, leaving just the two of them as friends again.

Mac smiled as she said, "I'll be right back." She walked off into the kitchen and returned a moment later with a Tupperware container filled with cookies. She handed it over to him.

"You baked?" Harm asked with raised eyebrows.

"Yup," Mac responded proudly.

"Are you trying to kill me?" he asked, teasing.

"Damn it," Mac responded with a grin. "You figured me out."

"Us pilots aren't all that stupid," he said.

"You sure fooled me," she teased back.

Harm opened the container and pulled out a cookie. Chocolate chip, he should have known. Mac loved chocolate chip cookies. And she was pretty good at making them, he had to give her credit. Cooking dinner might not be her strong suit, but making dessert was. He took a bite and moaned with pleasure. It was heavenly. "This is great, Mac," he said, his mouth full.

Mac nodded. She knew they were good.

Harm set the container down on the table and after grabbing a second cookie, closed them back up. "I could make myself sick by eating them all right now," he declared.

"Please, don't," Mac said, still grinning. "I'd hate to listen to you whine."

"I don't whine that much," Harm said, defending himself.

"Your ears must stop up when you're sick so that you can't hear yourself," she teased. "Hold on," she said, retreating to her bedroom, "let me get your presents."

"You mean there's more? It's not just the cookies?" he asked. The way things had been lately, he would have been happy with just the cookies.

"For your fortieth? I had to get you more, Harm," she called from the bedroom. She returned a moment later carrying two packages: one was rectangular, maybe seven or eight inches long and five inches wide, and about two inches thick, and the other was a small box, maybe about four inches tall and three inches wide. She handed him the flat, rectangular package, saying, "This one first."

Harm pulled the wrapping paper off, cream colored with multi-colored balloons and the words "Happy Birthday!" on it, to reveal a book about American pilots who were shot down over Chichi Jima in WWII. "Thanks, Mac," he said as he studied the cover.

"I figured you probably have a million books on aviation and wars, but I saw it and thought of you," she said, sounding embarrassed.

Harm opened the cover and looked at the contents of the book. "I do have about a million books on the topic, but you are the only person I know that could have found the one I don't have. Thanks."

Mac smiled as she handed him the smaller package.

Harm set the book down on top of the container of cookies and tore open the paper, the same design, on the smaller package. It was a simple black box, snapped shut in the middle of the longer side. Harm undid the snap to open the box. Inside was a sterling silver watch. It was very simple, only displaying the time, the date, and the day of the week. The face was black and the hands and Roman numerals, like the band and rim around the face, were silver. Harm studied the watch.

"Do you like it?" Mac asked worriedly. His old watch worked perfectly fine, but it was bulky and complex, it had a few scratches and the band had been broken and repaired numerous times, so when she saw the watch, she opted to buy him a new one.

Harm lifted the watch out of the box. "It's beautiful. Thank you, Mac."

"It's kind of simple, I know, but this way when other people look at it, they'll be able to find the time."

"I don't need something so complex most of the time, anyway," Harm stated, reassuring her. As he turned the watch over in his hands, he noticed the indentations on the back. Looking closely, he saw that it was an engraving. It said, "To Harm, my best friend, on his birthday. Love, Mac." Harm pulled his old watch off and placed it in the box. He turned to Mac and said, "Thank you. This is incredible. I mean it."

Mac was nervously watching him. "You're welcome."

He held the watch out to her. "Would you put it on?"

Mac nodded, smiling, "I'd be honored."

Harm extended his wrist and Mac placed the watch on it, locking it in place. Smiling, Harm pulled Mac to him in a hug. "Thank you, for everything, Mac."

"You're welcome. Happy birthday," she said, her arms around him.

Harm hadn't noticed that the watch was set five minutes fast.

xxxxx

Catacombs  
Washington, D.C.  
Sunday, October 26, 2003  
0127 Hours (local)

Denise had shown up at Mac's apartment right on time to go to the club. Just before leaving for the club, there had been an awkward moment among the four of them, each of them thinking their own thoughts. Denise was feeling like a third wheel between Harm and Mac, knowing she had caused some trouble. And Harm was torn between the two women, his best friend and, as Mac put it, a one-night stand. Mac was still angry with both Denise and Harm for the situation, but she tried to not let it get to her and enjoy what she had. Jen only knew the smallest part of what had occurred, but she had a pretty good idea of why things were so tense between Harm and Mac.

And once again, their night at the club, seemed to be pretty uneventful. They had no leads on any of the guys and it appeared that their killer's appearance at the club was pretty sporadic. They didn't know how much longer they would be working undercover.

Sitting at a table by herself, Mac was stirring her drink with a straw, her face sullen. Following her gaze, Jen saw Harm and Denise on the dance floor, but neither of them seemed greatly interested in their activities, but rather, only interested in blending in. It wasn't like it had been two weeks ago, where the experience had been fun, but it was now more like a chore.

Jen took a seat and said, "I know it's early, but do you want to cut out of here?"

Mac looked at Jen. "If you're having fun, we can stay."

Jen shook her head. "I don't think anything is going to happen tonight. Plus, I don't think any of us are really having fun."

Mac shook her head. She waited until Harm glanced over at them before she smiled, nodding towards the door, indicating that she and Jen were leaving. He smiled and nodded back while Denise pretended not to notice. She and Jen rose up from the table and headed up the stairs.

xxxxx

Mac's Apartment  
Georgetown  
Washington, D.C.  
Sunday, October 26, 2003  
0247 Hours (local)

Harm and Denise had once again waited for closing time, though they would have been grateful to get out of the club early. Back at Mac's apartment, their post-club conference was quick and was only on topic. Denise took off as soon as she could. After a few awkward moments between Harm, Mac, and Jen, Harm took off as well, Mac sending him off with his container of cookies, his book, and the box containing his old watch. Jen was staying the night, as had become the usual, although she didn't feel as tired as she usually did.

Sitting on the couch after Denise and Harm left, sipping hot chocolate and eating cookies, Jen turned to Mac. "Are you really that mad at Harm?"

Mac shook her head. "He made a mistake. I can accept that. We've both made plenty over the years. But it is how he handled it that gets to me." Mac paused before going on, "He hid it from me."

"Was there any reason he should have told you?"

"You mean, are we involved?"

Jen smiled sheepishly, "I guess that's what I meant."

"No," Mac responded sadly. "And maybe if we had been, it would have been different. I'd like to believe that he would have told me if we were together. If he had done it at all…"

"Why aren't you guys together?" Jen asked, grabbing a cookie.

"Never the right time, I guess. We always had work; there have been other people… It just never seemed right."

Jen nodded her understanding. "Sorry for intruding. It's just that, well, since I've met you guys, you've been really close. He came to you when he needed someone to hold me prisoner, you guys talked like you knew each other well, I just kind of assumed that there was something there."

Mac laughed softly, grabbing a cookie for herself. "That's been known to happen before. You aren't the first."

They were silent for a few more minutes, each sipping their hot chocolate, munching on their cookies, lost in their thoughts.

"I saw a different side of him that day," Mac said suddenly.

"What day? The day he and Denise…?" Jen didn't know the whole story, but she had figured out that Mac saw him with her.

"No. I've seen him with other women before, Annie, Jordan, and Renee, never blatantly making out like that. I always thought he had more respect for himself and, I don't know, the viewing public." Mac sighed. "No, the day Denise's husband came into the office."

"How so?" Jen asked, taking a sip of her drink.

"He just fought the man. I've seen him kill to save lives and because it is his job. I've seen him angry enough to hurt a man because he was withholding information that Harm was desperate to get. But I've never seen him just fight like that. He was fighting over a woman he had no right to claim. It just repulsed me because it was so… caveman-like."

"With all due respect, Mac, would you feel so repulsed if that woman they were fighting over was you?"

Mac was silent as she sipped her drink for a moment, pondering Jen's question. "That happened once."

"Harm fought another man for you?"

"I didn't know it at the time. I just thought that Harm hated Mic. They had decided punching each other outside the courthouse in Sydney, Australia, over a case was a way to solve the problem. Unfortunately, Bud got in between them and they broke his jaw. As punishment, it was decided that the two of them would be locked in a warehouse and allowed to duke it out."

"And how was this about you?"

Mac sipped her hot chocolate before continuing, "I didn't know it was. I didn't hear the whole argument. But Bud did. He realized what was happening. What they were saying was about the case, and me. They didn't get into a fistfight over the case, but they did about me. Bud informed me of this later. Of course, I was the only one that could understand him, so Harm still doesn't know that I know why he got into that fight."

"And how did it make you feel when Harm got into a fight over you?"

"Initially, I was disgusted by his behavior. I didn't think it was an appropriate way for him to act, for either him or Mic. But inside, secretly, I was flattered by it. It's something most women dream of at some point, having two men fight over her."

"How come you never told Harm any of this?"

"I didn't see how it would change things. I was already on that road to my engagement. If he really wanted something from me, he could have spoken up."

"Or, maybe he couldn't."

Mac turned to Jen, her eyes flashing. "And what do you mean by that?"

"Just that he's your best friend. Regardless of anything else, he probably wanted to see you happy, no matter what that meant to him. Have you ever heard that saying, 'If you really love something, set it free; if it doesn't come back to you, it wasn't meant to be yours?'"

Mac nodded.

"Maybe he was setting you free, seeing if you would come back to him or go through with the relationship with Mic. If you did, you and he weren't meant to be. And if Mic made you happy, who was he to interfere? Saying something might ruin that happiness."

"But I wasn't really that happy. I thought I was, but looking back, I wasn't," Mac admitted softly.

"And you didn't tell him, did you?"

"No."

"Then how was he supposed to know to say something?" Jen questioned softly.

Mac put her mug down and closed her eyes, drawing her knees up close to her. It had taken mere minutes for Jen to point something out that had been a mystery to her for years: why Harm never said anything. She sighed heavily. "I'm tired, Jen," she said as she rose slowly off the couch. She put her mug in the sink in the kitchen and headed back towards the bedroom.

"Mac," Jen called.

Mac turned back to her.

"Sorry, if I over-stepped the boundaries."

Mac shook her head. "Do you think we will ever get past this?" she asked.

Jen nodded, "If you were meant to be."

Mac nodded her head and retreated. Perhaps it was time for her to let all of it go, let Harm go. And if he came back, well, like Jen said, it was meant to be.

xxxxx

 **AN: The book I describe here is _Flyboys: A True Story of American Courage_ by James Bradley. I haven't read it, but I saw a commercial for it as I was writing this and it seemed to fit. The book really sounds interesting, even though history normally isn't my thing. If you are interested in learning more about it, go to .com and type "Flyboys" in the search box. Click on the book and you can get more information about the book itself. That's what I did!**


	12. Chapter 12

Mac's Apartment  
Georgetown  
Washington, D.C.  
Friday, October 31, 2003  
2302 Hours (local)

Mac was lying in bed, reading, when the knocking began on her door. It was too late for trick-or-treaters, and since it was Halloween, Mac figured it was just some young kids trying to play a prank, so she ignored it. Three minutes later, when the knocking didn't stop, Mac rose out of bed, wrapped her robe around her, and walked to the door. She looked out the peephole and was shocked by the sight that greeted her. She yanked open the door and said loudly, "Denise! Are you all right?"

Denise's left eye was almost swollen shut and dried blood was crusted on her lower lip. She didn't have a jacket or a coat on, only a short-sleeved red top, and Mac could see red marks and the beginnings of bruises on her arms.

Mac stepped back and allowed Denise to enter. "He did this, didn't he? Your husband?"

Denise nodded. "He locked me out of our apartment. I didn't know where else to go. You're within walking distance."

"Come on," Mac said, leading the way to the kitchen. "Let's get you cleaned up." She immediately put a few ice cubes into a sandwich bag and wrapped it in a towel. "Hold this to your eye," she instructed. She dampened a paper towel with warm water and dabbed at Denise's lip. It didn't look too bad, just a lot of blood, and it wouldn't need stitches.

"You've done this before," Denise stated as Mac delicately cleaned her lip.

"Unfortunately, yes. I was afraid this would happen to you after the whole thing with Harm."

"Pat flipped out when he found out I went to the club again last weekend. I told him I was going because I had to for the case. He found out Harm was there and he was livid. I told him I would be returning tomorrow night and he lost it."

"You won't need stitches," Mac said. "Come on, let's go sit on the couch. You'll be more comfortable." Denise followed Mac to the couch and sat down. Mac pulled a cream-colored blanket off the back of the couch and tossed it to Denise, who immediately spread it over her lap and pulled it up to her shoulders. She continued to hold the bag of ice to her eye. "Has he ever done this before?" Mac asked.  
"No. He has been through anger management and has threatened, but in nine years of marriage, he has never hit me."

Mac regarded Denise for a moment. "Can I get you anything else?"

Denise shook her head.

Mac was silent for a moment as she continued to study Denise. "Why me? Other than because I live close, why did you come to me? You know that I'm not really happy with you because of the whole Harm thing…" Mac trailed off.

"I know. I just didn't have anywhere else to go. I needed to go somewhere. And I just got this feeling, like you would be able to understand. But I was also afraid you'd slam the door in my face."

"I couldn't. Not even to you." Both women were silent for a moment.

"Thanks," Denise said, her voice just barely above a whisper.

Mac smiled weakly. "I know I should tell you to go to the police and press charges-" Mac began.

"I won't," Denise said firmly, cutting Mac off.

"I figured as much. I'd probably say the same. But, what are you going to do?" Mac asked.

"I'm not going home tonight. I'll go back tomorrow. But…" Denise trailed off.

"Stay here," Mac insisted.

Denise smiled in thanks. "I wouldn't ask, but I don't have any money or anything."

Mac nodded. "I know. Look," she paused, "about tomorrow night, don't come. I don't want this to escalate into something really bad between you and your husband."

"I'd have to notify work and they probably don't want you guys going in alone."

"We can handle it. Jen will be wired, our guy will be around the corner. Odds are, nothing will happen anyway. Call into work and say something has come up, a personal problem. Just call me and let me know tomorrow what is going on."

"And if they don't let you guys go in?"

"We'll take the weekend off."

Denise looked carefully at Mac. "Thanks, for everything. You didn't have to do this."

"Yes, I did," Mac smiled weakly.

"When did this happen to you? The hitting?" Denise asked.

"Long time ago," Mac replied, shaking her head. "I'm not going to get into it." Mac rose up off the couch. "I'm going to go get you some sheets and a pillow, you can sleep on the couch. If you want, you can take a shower and clean up," Mac offered.

Denise shook her head, "Nah. I'm okay."

Mac nodded and left the room. She returned a moment later with a bundle of sheets and a t-shirt and sweat pants for Denise. "I thought these might be more comfortable to sleep in," she said, handing Denise the clothes.

"Thanks," Denise said as she got to her feet. "I'll just go change," she said as she wandered back towards the bathroom. She took the bag of ice with her.

Mac spread the sheets out on the couch and waited for Denise. When she returned a minute later, she only had the towel, having dumped the ice out. She placed the towel down on the coffee table. Mac asked, "Can I ask you something?" Mac wanted to know, but she didn't know if she had a right to the information, or if Denise would even tell her. If the situation had been reversed, Mac probably wouldn't have given the information over.

"Go ahead," Denise responded, nodding. She had a pretty good idea of what was coming. She took a seat on the couch.

"Why'd you do it? Cheat on your husband?"

"I honestly don't know," Denise responded. "Harm wasn't the first man to come along that seemed interested in me. And he wasn't the first one I've been attracted to, but he is the first one I followed that attraction with. I don't know how you guys have been able to work together for so long and not act on it. You are both attractive people. Maybe it was the environment we were in, or maybe I have just gotten bored with my marriage, I don't know. And the sad part is, that given the chance to do it over, I'm not sure I'd do anything different. I think it has been over between Pat and I for a while and this was just the final nail in the coffin, so to speak. Maybe it was my passive-aggressive attempt at getting him to not want me anymore. I don't know."

Mac nodded, looking down at her feet.

"I am sorry if it hurt Harm. Or you. And for the problems it has caused on this case. If I could take that much of it back, I would."

"Oh," Mac responded. She had her answer, but now she wasn't sure of what to say.

"Did I answer your question?" Denise asked timidly.

"Yes," Mac responded, ashamed for having asked it in the first place. Leaving the topic, Mac went on, "There's food and things in the kitchen. Help yourself to anything you want. I was in bed when you got here, so I'm going to go back now. Don't hesitate to ask if there is anything else I can do for you," Mac said.

"You've done enough. Thank you, Mac," Denise said.

"You're welcome," Mac responded as she walked towards the bedroom. "Good-night."

"'Night," Denise called.

Mac shut the door behind her and sighed heavily. She didn't really like Denise, hadn't since the beginning, but she couldn't just let her walk away after she had been beaten by her husband. As Mac slid beneath the covers on her bed, she felt sorry for the woman. But she had gotten herself into it.

When Mac got up in the morning, Denise was gone. The sheets were folded, along with the clothes Mac had leant her, all neatly stacked on the coffee table. On top was a note that said, "Thanks, Mac."

xxxxx

Catacombs  
Washington, D.C.  
Sunday, November 2, 2003  
0039 Hours (local)

Denise had called and said that the operation was to go on without her that night. Harm had arrived at the club on his own before Mac and Jen, as they had planned at Mac's apartment. He had spent about half an hour watching Mac and Jen before he got up to talk to them. He asked Mac to dance, making it look as if he had never met either of them before. They had danced a few songs before Harm moved away to get drinks. Jen was dancing with a guy that she had encountered at the club a few times before. Harm returned with the drinks and sat with them for a while. Jen came back and left again, dancing, conversing with guys easily, as if she had been born to do it.

Glancing at Mac, Harm extended his hand and said, "Want to dance?"

"Will she be okay?" Mac asked, nodding her head to Jen.

"She's with Luke. She'll be okay. If she stops dancing with him, we'll come back."

"Okay," Mac nodded with a smile, accepting his hand. They had not been so focused on catching their killer tonight. They were there more to make sure that nothing else happened. Jen hadn't spoken to or danced with many unfamiliar guys, but stuck more to the ones she had met on previous visits. Harm and Mac got to their feet and stepped out onto the dance floor.

Within moments, they had slipped into an easy rhythm, moving with the music. Harm felt that dancing with Denise had been somewhat forced, especially the previous week, but dancing with Mac felt completely natural. The way she fit into his arms, the way they moved together, their eye contact, it all seemed so right. As one song blended into the next, Harm and Mac moved closer, inch by inch, until their bodies were touching. As Harm gazed into Mac's eyes and felt the electricity that flowed between them ignite a spark, he felt the pull of desire stir within him.

Mac had looked across the floor and noticed Jen still dancing with Luke. She was smiling and laughing, having a good time. And Mac had to admit that she was enjoying dancing with Harm. If she could forget about the past few weeks, what they were doing here, what had driven them to such tension of late, she could enjoy herself. And as she brushed against Harm, she felt his hardness. Apparently, he was having a good time, too. She broke the eye contact they had been maintaining and blushed. Perhaps it was time to pull back a little and take a break.

Harm felt Mac pull away slightly and had noticed her blush. He pulled her towards him, pressing her against him, making her feel how much he wanted her. He leaned over and said in her ear, "How could you ever think that I didn't see you as a desirable woman, Mac?"

Harm's voice, his warm breath, tickled her ear. She turned back to meet his gaze. He had no idea what he was doing to her, how she was melting. It was so easy to forget everything, to just slip away into the moment, give in to the desire.

Somehow, Harm had backed them up, just inches away from the wall, in the very corner where the murders had taken place. He spoke into her ear again, "I want you, Mac." He stayed close to her, breathing heavily, as he lightly nibbled her ear, moved down to kiss and linger just below her earlobe, near her jaw.

Harm was no longer pressing her to him; she was doing that willingly. She took a step back and felt the wall at her back. Her head was tilted up, her eyes closed. What Harm's lips were doing on her throat was truly evil. Mac's hands were already at the back of his neck and she easily pulled his head up and forced her lips onto his. There was nothing sweet about this kiss. A second after their lips met, Harm's tongue was invading her mouth. Mac pressed herself even closer to Harm, lifting one leg up, angling her core to his erection. He was hard and she was wet.

Harm felt her movement and lowered his hands from the small of her back to under her thighs. He lifted her up and pressed her back into the wall, still pressing himself towards her. She wrapped her legs around him and gripped him with her thighs, crossing her ankles behind his back. She had him right where she wanted him, if only it weren't for the clothes between them. Harm pulled back from the heated kiss. "Jesus, Mac," he said, his breathing heavy.

Mac opened her eyes and leaned her head back against the wall. Her breathing was also labored. "Harm, we can't do this," she said. She practically had to yell to be heard.

"I know," he agreed, but even as he spoke the words, he was still dancing, or at least moving in time to the music, moving against Mac, wishing there was nothing between them clothing-wise. He leaned in and kissed her again. The kiss was urgent, needy, as if they both knew this couldn't last. When Harm pulled away again, he rested his forehead on hers. He glanced to the side and saw that Jen was still dancing with Luke. She seemed to like that one.

Harm was still moving against her. It wasn't enough; Mac wanted more. She, too, glanced over and noticed Jen. Looking back, she met Harm's gaze. "This is so wrong," she said quietly, but still loud enough for Harm to hear.

"I know," he said again. Harm had moved his hands, bracing himself against the wall, Mac holding herself up with the strength of her legs and her back against the wall. Harm moved down and kissed Mac's neck again, slowly working his way from one side to the other, the whole time, his body moving against hers. He pulled his right hand down from the wall and fondled one of Mac's breasts through her top.

She moaned in response.

Harm moved his hand lower, lifting up her skirt, which was loose and came to her mid-thigh, and stroked the soft skin on the inner region of her leg. He brushed against her underwear, feeling the dampness there. "Oh, fuck, Mac," he breathed. This was too much. He couldn't stop, he didn't care where they were. He kissed her harshly on her lips, almost hard enough to bruise, his tongue once again invading her mouth to tangle with hers.

When Harm brushed against her core, Mac arched up, saying, "Oh, God, Harm." What he was doing to her felt so damn good. She didn't care, she wanted him. She pulled one hand down from the back of his neck, careful to not loosen the grip she had with her thighs. She reached down and fumbled with the button on his black jeans, managing to undo them and lower the zipper. She reached inside, slipping her fingers through the front of his boxers and grasped him.

At her touch, Harm shuddered. "Fuck," he said again.

Mac wrapped her hand around his organ, and as Harm moved, he thrust into her hand. His own fingers roughly pushed the crotch of Mac's underwear aside and he slid one finger into her slick folds, finding her clit. "Jesus!" she moaned into his mouth. Harm maneuvered his hand, sliding one finger, then two, into her, his thumb brushing her clit. Both of them were breathing heavily. Mac pulled her mouth away, arching into Harm as he slid his fingers in and out. She was moving her hand along his organ as he moved, twisting and turning her hand, tightening and loosening her grasp. "Shit, Harm," she said between breaths. "We aren't doing this. Not here."

"We can't," he agreed, also speaking between breaths. "We have to stop."

Mac nodded. But neither of them quit.

Harm wanted to rip the underwear off of her and slam himself into her, but he didn't think it was possible at that moment. He couldn't stop long enough to do that. He continued to slide his fingers in and out of her and rub her clit as he clamped his lips down on hers again. A minute later, he felt her inner muscles contract around his fingers, her thighs around his waist, and her hand around his penis. She bit down on his lower lip as she pulled back. He watched her orgasm and felt her grip tighten on him as he moved and he felt himself go. He came right after her, his seed spilling out over Mac's hand and her thighs.

For a moment, they merely stood there, catching their breaths, Harm's fingers still inside Mac, her hand still around his organ and her thighs still around his waist, though looser now. Harm was helping to support her more than he had been. It was Mac's turn to say it. "Fuck," she breathed.

"Fuck," he repeated. After another minute, Harm removed his fingers from her underwear. Mac removed her hand from his pants and Harm slowly let her back down to the ground. He casually tucked himself back in and zipped his pants as Mac tried to slyly readjust her underwear. And of course, they both had sticky fingers. Neither one made eye contact with the other.

Looking around the room, Mac noticed that Jen was still dancing with Luke, though she did glance quickly over in their direction, and Mac hurriedly looked away, blushing. She looked down at her hand and back up at Harm. He also was looking at his hand. Mac shrugged her shoulders and proceeded to lick his semen off her fingers. She had always wondered what he tasted like.

Harm watched her for a moment and proceeded to follow suit, licking her juice off his own fingers. And like her, he had always wondered what she tasted like.

When Mac was done, she flipped the edge of her skirt up to dry her hands. She offered it to Harm, but he wiped his hands on his pants. And after their unusual clean-up method, Mac was afraid to look up at Harm. She was afraid of what she would see in his eyes. She swallowed hard.

"Mac," Harm spoke first.

"I think we should go," she said quickly, still not making eye contact. She rushed past him, moving to Jen. She pulled Jen aside, away from Luke and said, "Let's go."

"What happened?" Jen asked.

Mac just shook her head and took off.

Jen waved to Luke, glanced at Harm, and took off after Mac.

xxxxx

Mac's Apartment  
Georgetown  
Washington, D.C.  
Sunday, November 2, 2003  
0123 Hours (local)

Mac had said nothing to Jen on the way back to her apartment and Jen had been content to let it go, at least while Mac was driving. She had seen Harm and Mac in the back corner. She had seen what looked like some pretty intense kisses and maybe some feeling, she had tried not to watch, as Jen never was a voyeur and they were her superior officers, but she had noticed them and kept track of where they were for a while. Jen had chosen to stay with Luke, she liked him, while Harm and Mac were doing their thing in the corner, not wanting to stir up any trouble. She didn't know how far things had gone, but something had happened. As soon as they were in Mac's apartment, Jen asked, "Is everything okay?"

Mac shook her head, rubbing her temples. "Don't even try, Jen. I don't want to talk about this."

"Okay," Jen said, furrowing her brow. "I'm here for you, though."

"I've got a headache," Mac said as she walked off to the bedroom and into the bathroom. In the bathroom, she quickly washed her hands. Her thighs were sticky and she wanted to take a shower, clean it off of her. She felt dirty, not only because of what she had just done, but where she had done it, and whom she had done it with. She grabbed some Advil and swallowed them without water.

While Mac was getting some Advil, Jen went into the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of water from the refrigerator. Mac was back in the living room when Jen returned from the kitchen. Jen looked at Mac and her mind was made up. "It's still early, Mac, I think I'm just going to drive home instead of staying here, okay?"

Mac nodded, "Okay, that sounds good."

"Anything I can do for you?" Jen asked as she picked up her duffle bag of stuff she had brought with her earlier.

"No," Mac said. "Sorry for dragging you out of there so early. I just…" she trailed off. "I don't know."

"You'll figure it out," Jen said with a smile. "I'll see you Monday."

"Drive safe."

"I will," Jen said as she walked out the door.

Mac locked the door behind her and watched Jen's progress towards her car from her window, and once Jen pulled away from the curb in her car, Mac bolted into the bathroom to shower. She quickly rinsed off, rinsing the stickiness from her thighs. She didn't feel totally clean when she got out, but a clean pair of underwear helped, a little. She figured Harm would be there soon and sure enough, two minutes and twenty-seven seconds later, he was knocking at the door.

Dressed in flannel pajamas, Mac quickly opened the door.

"Where's Jen?" he asked as he entered the apartment.

"She went home. It's still early."

"Oh. I guess that's good."

Mac nodded, not daring to look him in the eye. "You want something to drink?" she asked.

"Just water, please. And I'm just going to go use your bathroom," he said, looking down at his feet. He didn't really want to look her in the eye, either. He headed off to the bathroom while she retreated to the kitchen. When he returned, she handed him a bottle of water and he looked around the room. The picture of the two of them from Afghanistan was still missing from the mantel. "You haven't gotten a new frame yet?" he asked, gesturing to the empty space above the fireplace.

"No," Mac said, shaking her head. "Actually, the picture got wet and was ruined."

"My copy is fine. I'll get you a new one."

"You don't have to."

"I want to."

"Thanks," Mac responded, still not meeting his gaze.

For a moment, the two of them stood like awkward teenagers at their first school dance, a few feet apart, facing each other, staring at their feet, neither of them knowing where to begin. Harm finally started, "Mac, I'm sorry if I over-stepped the boundaries tonight."

Mac shook her head, looking away. "I just proved you right."

"What do you mean?"

"I take it when I can get it. Spread my legs for the first man that comes along, which happened to be you."

"Mac, I didn't mean it like that, that night," Harm began.

"It doesn't matter," Mac said sadly. "That's who I am. I was like that when I was younger and I guess some things never change."

"Please," Harm said, a pleading tone in his voice, "don't think about yourself like that. You aren't a slut, Mac. I know that's not who you are, because if you were, we would have walked down that path a long time ago."

Mac sighed heavily. She just didn't see it that way. Give her the opportunity and she would go for it, no matter who offered it.

"But what happened there," Harm began again, "it shouldn't have happened. Not there. We were on a mission and Jen could have been hurt."

"I know," Mac said softly. "I get it now."

"Get what?" Harm asked, confused.

"I blamed you, Harm," she said, looking up at him, focusing on his nose, his forehead, anywhere but his eyes, "for sleeping with Denise, for having desires. The club does bring that out. But I blamed you for being human. I hated you for being human, for giving in. Because I wouldn't. I couldn't."

"But you're right, Mac. It wasn't just the club and I am human and I did want it, but she wasn't the one I wanted it with."

"Who?" Mac whispered, afraid to hear the answer.

"You."

Mac's eyes teared up and she turned away.

Harm stepped closer to Mac, close enough to touch her. He reached out and lifted her chin so she was looking at him, looking him in the eye. "Why do we do this? Why do we hurt each other?" he asked, his tone of voice gentle.

"I don't know."

"Neither do I."

They simply stared into the depths of each other's eyes for a few minutes, seeing the intense flame of passion that burned within them, with tendrils of love and hurt spread throughout.

"Will it always be like this?" Mac asked, her voice a whisper.

Harm stepped closer. "Be like what?" His voice was just as quiet as hers.

Mac leaned forward, closer to Harm. She could feel his warm breath on her face, feel his heart beating in his chest. His breathing was fast and uneven, matching her own. The heat between them was stifling. "A love-hate relationship."

"Maybe," Harm said as he swallowed and inched his lips closer to Mac's.

Mac closed her eyes, anticipating what was coming, hating herself for speaking, but she had to. "Relationships like that never last."

"No, they don't. And they do tend to be explosive."

For a moment, Mac stopped breathing. Harm's lips were a few hair widths from hers. "Are we… exploding?" she whispered.

Harm closed his eyes. "I think we are," his voice still quiet. His lips touched Mac's very lightly. For a moment, neither one moved. Slowly, Harm increased the pressure on Mac's lips, creating a full-on kiss, no tongue, no lust, only an intense longing for the love that seemed to be just out of reach. Mac responded in kind for a few seconds before backing away.

"I can't, Harm. The explosion would kill me."

Harm looked into her eyes. They were full of sadness. And love. And his own probably reflected the same. She was right. The explosion might kill him, too.

"Go home. Please," Mac begged as she walked away, tears flowing once again.

Harm turned silently and left. There was nothing more to say.


	13. Chapter 13

JAG Headquarters  
Falls Church, Virginia  
Monday, November 3, 2003  
0937 Hours (local)

The Admiral had held Harm, Mac, and Jen back after staff call, wanting a detailed update on the club murders. There wasn't really anything new to report, which was not what the Admiral wanted to hear. He sighed heavily. "And I understand that Detective West was not present Saturday night?" he asked, looking back and forth between Harm and Mac. He knew they were the two ringleaders in this.

Mac nodded as she spoke, "No, Sir, she was not. She had personal business to attend to."

"I see," he said, nodding. "Did it occur to you to maybe take a week off? Only two of you were in there to watch Petty Officer Coates' back, and I don't like those numbers."

"Well, Admiral," Harm jumped in, "we thought about not going, but decided, after discussing it with the Petty Officer, we wouldn't really look for the killer, but just keep our presence there in case something happened. Mac and I could stick around and watch the area where the murders have occurred."

Jen spoke up, "I didn't really meet anybody new, I just stuck to the people I knew from previous visits. The Commander and the Colonel were there and keeping an eye on things. Even with only the two of them, I never felt like I was in more danger than I am with Detective West present."

Mac glanced at Jen and mouthed, 'Thank you.'

The Admiral pinched the bridge of his nose. "D.C. Police are getting tired of running this. And I am getting tired of this case tying three of my people up. It doesn't appear that too much progress is being made and if this keeps up, we're going to pull the plug."

Harm, Mac, and Jen all looked at each other. Harm spoke, "But, Sir, we don't know when our guy is there. We can't catch him until he shows up and takes the bait. It's just a waiting game."

"One that could last for months," the Admiral pointed out. "The Petty Officer could have already met this guy and he could have just moved on to someone else."

It was possible, although unlikely, and they all knew it.

"D.C. Police is willing to run with this for a few more weeks, but without any progress, they can't afford to keep it running."

"Understood," the three said together.

"Dismissed," the Admiral ordered.

Once outside of the conference room, Mac said to Jen, "Thanks."

"For what?" Jen asked.

"That whole line about Harm and I watching on Saturday night."

"Ma'am, I wasn't just feeding him a line. I don't know what happened and I won't pretend like I do, but I know you wouldn't have left me with just anybody. You knew who I was with. And once I realized that the two of you were… distracted, I didn't want to move on to someone else and cause trouble. But I knew you wouldn't abandon me. I did feel safe the whole time."

Mac smiled to Jen as they reached Mac's office. "Still, I appreciate it. And I appreciate you not pushing the issue."

"No problem, Ma'am," Jen smiled as she walked away and Harm approached.

"Got a minute?" he asked.

Mac nodded and led him into her office, shutting the door behind him.

"Does Jen know about…" he trailed off.

"Not really," Mac responded, shaking her head. "I didn't tell her anything, but she did see us, sort of…" Mac also trailed off.

"Okay," Harm sighed with relief. "I was worried there for a moment that she went to the Admiral."

Mac smiled lightly. "She wouldn't do that. She's got quite a bit of respect for you."

"Me?" Harm asked.

"You helped her out, encouraged her to turn her life around. You showed her a little faith, that you wouldn't just abandon her like people have before."

"Well, she admires you."

Mac shook her head as she moved to take a seat at her desk.

"You gave her a chance, too. You didn't treat her poorly just because she was a prisoner. You treated her like a person. And I think you guys have a bond, just from the rough background."

"Maybe," Mac thought for a moment. "All she ever really needed was someone to care about her and give her a chance."

"I think we all need that sometimes," Harm said absently.

Mac was silent for a moment. "I wonder how Tiner is doing? We haven't heard from him for a while."

"I'm sure he's fine. He's a good kid. They all are."

"Watch it," Mac warned, laughing. "You're showing your age, Commander."

"Just wait," he threatened. "When you turn forty, I'll be laughing at you."

Mac shrugged her shoulders, "I'll still be younger than you."

Harm grinned, "That doesn't mean I can't give you a hard time."

"You already do," Mac responded with a smile.

Harm shook his head. "I'm going to get out of here before the Admiral decides he doesn't need me and gets rid of me for good."

Mac nodded as Harm left her office.

xxxxx

Catacombs  
Washington, D.C.  
Sunday, November 9, 2003  
0143 Hours (local)

Another week had passed and Saturday night found the four of them back at the club. Nobody had heard from Denise all week and she had shown up at Mac's apartment as was expected. She hadn't said a word to Mac, or even made eye contact. Harm and Jen both got the feeling that something had passed between them, but neither knew what. The bruise on Denise's face had healed enough to be covered by make-up and the ones on her arms were easily concealed by her top.

Once again, Harm and Denise had arrived at the club before Mac and Jen. They decided that if anyone asked about Harm and Mac the previous week, and the fact that Harm was with a different woman, they would just make Harm a philandering jerk. Mac and Jen had come in and waved and smiled to a few people before getting drinks and taking a seat. Mac was getting tired of this. She wanted her Saturday nights back.

Harm had been keeping an eye on Mac, glancing at her across the sea of people. Occasionally, she would catch him. Neither one ever got up to go to the other. And when Harm and Denise danced, they seemed distant, not at all graceful. Mac kept her eye on Jen, making sure she was safe.

A guy approached Mac. He looked young, had long hair down to about his ears, and he was probably only about as tall as Mac. He was slender, not very muscular, though some muscles would suit his frame well. Looking down at Mac, he asked, "You want to go dance?"

Mac smiled sweetly, but shook her head. "No, thanks."

He leaned a little closer. "Come on, you know you want to," he urged.

Mac turned and regarded him closely. His skin was pale and his eyes were dark, probably either a dark green or brown. "I said no thanks," she responded firmly, no longer smiling.

"Well," he said, easing up a little, sensing that she meant it. "Can I at least buy you a drink?"

"No," she said. "I'm not interested." The issue of drinks had come up before from guys. A few had insisted that she get alcohol but she would come up with a remark like, "I want to remember everything that happens tonight." Most men bought it, but a few had gotten her alcoholic drinks anyway. Once Mac smelled the alcohol, she tended to hand the drink back to whoever had bought it and walk away.

The guy nodded, glancing around, "Next time, then."

Mac nodded as she spoke, "We'll see."

He walked away and Mac breathed a sigh of relief. Most guys took no for an answer, a few pushed. And it wasn't often that she didn't take them up on the offer, but a few of them gave her creepy vibes, this guy included. She glanced over and noticed Harm staring intently at her while he danced with Denise, who was pretending not to notice. There was a fierce, protective, gleam in his eyes, and Mac was willing to bet that if the guy had tried to force Mac to dance, Harm would have been all over him within seconds. Not to mention that Mac could have taken him down faster than he could have said, "What the hell."

Jen came back and sat next to Mac. "You okay?" she asked.

"Yeah. That last guy bothered me a bit. I wasn't sure he was going to take 'no' for an answer."

Jen smiled, "There are some creeps out there. You could have taken him on, though."

Mac laughed. "Yeah."

Jen leaned back in her seat, just watching the people around her. Over the last few weeks, she had gotten to know some of them, guys and girls. They had welcomed her into their scene with open arms, many of them quite friendly, not what you would expect based on their outside appearances. A moment later she spotted someone and got up to talk to her, leaving Mac to herself.

When Jen returned a few minutes later, she was smiling. Mac looked up at her, her eyes questioning, "Why are you so happy?"

Jen leaned close to Mac and whispered in her ear, "I've got something for you to listen to when we get out of here. But we have to stay until closing. Watch the corner."

Mac pulled back and said to her, "Do you have something?"

"I might," Jen smiled. She moved off to dance with another guy she knew, keeping the corner in her line of sight.

Five minutes before closing, Mac and Jen left and headed to the van with the recording equipment. From there, they paged Denise. A few minutes later, Denise and Harm joined them.

"What do you have?" Harm asked.

The officer in the van, Pete Manchester, smiled. He knew exactly what Jen was talking about. He had heard some interesting conversations over the last few weeks, but this one was good. And Jen's comment to Mac that she had something she wanted her to listen to had clued him in. He fiddled with a few adjustments and started the recording, the background noises diminished. Technology had come a long way in recent years.

Jen's voice: "Hey, Michelle!"

Girl's voice (Michelle): "Hey, girly! What's up?"

Jen: "Same old, same old. You?"

Michelle, laughing: "Can't complain. You here with your friend again, what's her name?"

Jen: "Mackenzie."

Michelle: "Yeah. The hot one."

In the van, Mac blushed to hear this and looked down at her feet.

Jen: "Yeah, she's with me. She was just hit on by a creep."

Michelle: "Doesn't that happen a lot? All men are creeps."

Jen: "No, she got a bad feel from this one."

Michelle, concern in her voice: "Some of these guys are trouble here. You have to watch out for them."

Jen: "Yeah. I know. She knows it, too, believe me."

Michelle: "Like that one. Even I won't talk to him. Fortunately, he doesn't come in that often."

Jen: "What's wrong with him?"

Michelle: "He doesn't like taking 'no' for an answer, believes that when a woman says 'no,' she means 'yes.' But he can be really charming, too, make you not want to say no."

Jen: "Sounds like you've had experience?"

Michelle: "Just about every female in here, gay or straight, if they come in here often enough, has had experience with him. And then you get guys like that one…"

Jen: "That one?"

Michelle: "Yeah, with the woman. He's gorgeous, I'll give you that, but probably a complete asshole."

Jen: "Why do you say that?"

Michelle: "Every few weeks, he's in here with a new woman. Sometimes, he'll bring one with him, and the next week he has another one, only to be back the first one a week later. I've seen him alone a few times, but he always leaves with someone."

Jen: "Ass."

Michelle: "Exactly. That's why I leave men alone."

Jen: "Women aren't always better. They play mind games, too."

Michelle: "At least with women, I have a fair chance at understanding them!"

Jen, laughing: "I guess so."

Michelle: "Hey, June is back from the restroom. I'll catch up to you later!"

Jen: "Later!"

Pete stopped the recording.

Jen turned to Harm, Mac, and Denise. "The guy Michelle was talking about, the creepy one?"

They all nodded. The blood began to drain from Mac's face as she realized where Jen was going with this.

"He was the one that had hit on you a few minutes earlier, Mac." Mac was silent, so Jen went on. "Did you get a good look at him?"

Mac nodded. "He might not be the one," Mac stated.

"The description from Marc Skylar matched him," Jen pointed out.

"Still," Mac insisted.

Harm jumped in, "You want to clue me in?"

Mac turned to him. "That guy that was trying to get me to dance with him a little while ago, I know you saw him, because even though you were dancing with Denise, you didn't look happy. He didn't really want to take 'no' for an answer, exactly like Michelle said on the tape. And I got a real bad vibe from him. He does match our description, but he might not be the guy we are looking for."

"But he might be," Denise said. "It's more than we've had for the last few weeks."

"But why me, why not Jen?" Mac asked.

"You were alone," Jen said. "I was dancing with another guy."

"Next week," Denise started, "If he's there, Jen, you have to dance with him, get him talking to you."

Jen nodded and turned to Mac again. "That's why we couldn't leave. What if he was looking for his next victim, and you were on his list. He could have moved on to someone else. At least by being there, we might have been able to stop him from getting anyone else."

Mac nodded. "Good thinking."

Jen smiled.

"Okay, guys," Pete said, "get out. Let me get this back to the station and we'll do this again next week."

The four of them left the van and went to their vehicles, all heading back to Mac's place, where Harm and Denise left to go home and Mac and Jen went to bed.

xxxxx

JAG Headquarters  
Falls Church, Virginia  
Monday, November 10, 2003  
0933 Hours (local)

The Admiral asked for an update the case after the staff call again. The undercover mission was being kept quiet at the office, though it was not necessary to keep it secret. After the events of the last few weeks, people that weren't involved really didn't want to get tangled up in it anyway.

Mac spoke, "Sir, we believe we may have come into contact with our guy on Saturday night."

"But you don't know for certain?" the Admiral asked.

"He fit the description and we have one other person down as saying that he is a weird guy, Sir. Apparently he only comes to the club occasionally, it is not a weekly thing.

The Admiral looked at his people. "So, all you have is a strange guy that matches the description?"

"Yes, Sir," Harm spoke.

Jen nodded. "Sir, we know it isn't much, but it is more than we have had. We think that this mission is worth at least continuing just to talk to him. He might not be the guy, but he might be."

The Admiral nodded. "Valid point. I believe you are good to go for another week or so. If this guys shows up again," he said turning to Jen, "I want you to speak to him. Do whatever you can to find out if he is our man."

"Aye, aye, Sir," Jen responded.

"Dismissed."


	14. Chapter 14

JAG Headquarters  
Falls Church, Virginia  
Thursday, November 13, 2003  
1634 Hours (local)

It was Thursday when all hell broke loose. Things had been building all week and everyone knew an explosion was imminent, but no one knew when, where, or why, it would happen. Leaving the courtroom after breaking for the day, Mac turned to Harm. "I don't believe you!" she practically yelled.

"What?" he asked innocently.

"Oh, don't play Mr. Innocent with me! It's been a long time since you've pulled that stunt. I expected better from you!"

"Mac," Harm began in a calm tone of voice.

"Don't even start! You intentionally misled me, made me look like a fool in there."

"You made your point. You were well covered for everything," Harm pointed out.

"Only because you've stabbed me in the back before," Mac said angrily as she stabbed at the button for the elevator. "But I still looked like a floundering idiot in front of the members!"

The elevator arrived and Harm, always the gentleman, let Mac board in front of him. Maybe it was their lucky day, or maybe their arguing, but no one boarded with them. "It wasn't that bad, Mac, and you recovered nicely. And don't blame me for this, I merely pointed something out to you."

"Knowing I would look into it. You knew Lieutenant Wilson had nothing to do with that incident."

Harm shook his head. "Never ask a question you don't know the answer to, you know that rule as well as I do."

"I thought I knew the answer. I thought you were being a good guy, wanted to see the bad guy punished, even if he is your client!" The elevator deposited them on their floor and Mac stepped off as she continued. "But I was wrong! I should have known. He's a pilot and you always cut them more slack."

"What was that?" Harm asked as he moved to catch up with her. She was striding angrily into the bullpen and he couldn't believe she had just brought up the old topic he thought they settled.

Mac stopped abruptly and turned around to face him. "These THINGS!" she said angrily, stabbing him in the chest, pressing her finger into his gold wings, "You think they make you so special and important, that you belong to a brotherhood and you have to stick up for anyone who strays from your ideal. You have to help them because they are your brothers." Mac turned around and started walking away, continuing, "I'm sorry your own brother walked away from you because you were too boring. You couldn't help him. What was it?" she asked, turning back to him, now in the middle of the bullpen. "A helicopter pilot wasn't good enough for you?"

Harm stood there with his mouth open for a moment before he grabbed her arm and dragged her into his office, out of the center of attention, although everybody continued to watch them as he slammed the door.

"What the hell is this about, Mac? If anybody is drawing unreasonable conclusions about their client, it's you! How about you always sticking up for the woman? Just because her father abused her doesn't mean the two of you belong to a sisterhood and you have to believe every word out of her mouth!"

This time, Mac's mouth hung open. "I don't believe you," she said angrily. "I can have a bond with a friend over this same issue, but not a client? You are incredible! Did you ever think, for a moment, that maybe your client is guilty?"

"Did you ever think that maybe yours was making it up?" Harm asked.

"Why would she do that?"

"To get attention! Isn't that what people do, play the victim card? That's all it takes for people to make you believe them!"

Mac's eyes narrowed, but Harm kept going.

"I'm sorry your father was an ass and your mother left you, but not everybody has been through that. And not everybody that does go through something bad like that betters themselves for it! Your client might be one of them!"

"And I'm sorry about your father! But at least you knew he loved you, even if you only knew him for six years! At least you didn't cry yourself to sleep every night thinking he hated you! Or get drunk everyday because you thought nobody loved you! But he didn't have to become an obsession! Grow up, Harm! Let your dad go! And while you're at it, let this stupid idea of pilot camaraderie go, too! You aren't a pilot anymore! Twice a year, maybe three or four if you're lucky! But you are a lawyer and sometimes, pilots are guilty!"

Harm turned away from Mac, pain etched into the lines of his face. "Get out," he demanded.

"Gladly! At least out there I can talk to people who don't stab me in the back and have moved on past the age of six!" Mac said as she yanked the door open and slammed it behind her. A moment later, the door to her own office slammed, sending a shiver down the wall.

xxxxx

Catacombs  
Washington, D.C.  
Sunday, November 16, 2003  
0046 Hours (local)

Harm and Mac had not spoken anymore than they had to since the argument Thursday afternoon. Mac was glad to be out on the mission because it gave her something else to focus on, something besides her dealings with Harm. At least at the club, they were looking for someone now. They didn't know if it was the right guy, but if he showed up, he was definitely worth checking out.

Mac saw him as soon as he came down the stairs. She nudged Jen, who was seated next to her, and nodded her head in the direction of the guy. It was the same one who had approached Mac the week before. He walked into the room, scouting the area, craning his head one way and then another.

Jen slid out of her seat and began wandering through the crowd. She made sure to catch Harm and Denise's eye before moving on. The pair was sitting in chairs near the dance floor, having a conversation. Jen had no idea what they were talking about nor did she care. She leaned back against a wall and surveyed the crowd. She was standing by herself, hoping he would take notice and approach her. He had gone for Mac when she was alone the previous week, so Jen was hoping the same thing would work.

She had been standing for a while when he finally approached her. Looking her body up and down, he asked, "You want to dance?"

Jen smiled sweetly and said, "Sure." She followed him out on the dance floor and started dancing. He kept moving closer to her and she wanted to back off. She understood what Mac had meant; he was a creepy guy. She just didn't get a good vibe from him. After the first two songs, she noticed Michelle over by Mac. She had spotted Michelle earlier dancing with June, her girlfriend, and was puzzled by her presence around Mac.

A girl with long, dark brown hair and pale skin, standing only about 5'3", approached Mac. "Excuse me," she said, "is your name by any chance Mackenzie?"

Mac nodded.

"You're friends with Jen, right?" she asked, gesturing over to where Jen was dancing with their suspect.

Mac nodded.

"Jen's a sweet girl. I've seen you guys here and I just thought you should know that the guy she's dancing with is a complete asshole. He's dangerous. I don't think she should be with him at all. I'd say something to her, but I don't know her that well and…" the girl trailed off.

Mac nodded. "Jen will be okay. She can handle herself. She's dealt with some assholes before," Mac said, more concerned now for Jen than she had been, but she couldn't let that on to the girl.

The girl nodded, "I'd just keep an eye on her, that's all."

"I'll do that. Thanks for the tip," Mac said, smiling.

"You're welcome," the girl said and turned back to rejoin her partner.

Mac caught Harm's eye and nodded toward Jen and the suspect. They would definitely be watching this one.

After the third song, Jen wanted a break, so she looked towards her partner and said, "You want to go sit?"

He nodded and led her off to a table, not far from where Mac was sitting, but they were now behind her, out of her line of sight. Harm and Denise got up and started dancing, moving to the side of the dance floor closest to the stairs so at least one of them could keep an eye on the situation. "Do you want a drink?" the guy asked Jen.

"Sure," Jen agreed, "just a tonic water, please."

"Nothing else?"

"I don't like to drink alcohol. It gives me bad headaches," she explained.

He nodded and took off to the bar. When he returned a moment later, he handed Jen a cup and took a swig of his own cup, which was filled with beer. As she took a sip, she noticed the taste of vodka. Determined not to drink much, because of the alcohol and who knows what else he put in the drink, she put the cup down on the table. "So," he began, "what's your name?"

"Jen. Yours?"

"Alan."

"I like that name. It's a strong name," Jen said with a smile as she took a sip of her drink.

He smiled. He wasn't bad looking, which probably made him even creepier. "I haven't seen you here before. I saw you last week, though. You were dancing with someone else."

"I work up at Patuxent River," she said, dropping the information. "I have friends and family down here, so I like to come and visit when I can."

"Patuxent River? Isn't there a naval base up there?"

Jen nodded, still smiling, letting out a small laugh, "Yeah, actually, that's where I work."

"Are you in the Navy?" he asked, looking genuinely interested.

Jen nodded as she took another small sip. She was always pretty good at holding her own when it came to drinking, but if he slipped something else in her drink, she wasn't looking forward to ingesting it. However, save alcohol, none of his other victims had any other drugs in their systems. Still, she wasn't about to take her chances, so small sips were best, and hopefully he wouldn't catch on. "I am."

Alan took a swallow from his own drink. "My dad was in the Navy."

Picking up on the use of the past tense, Jen asked, "Did he retire?"

"No," he said, shaking his head. "He was killed." When he looked back up at Jen, there was a flash of anger and hatred in his eyes.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Jen said softly. "What happened?"

"It was ruled a suicide, but my dad wouldn't do that. Somebody pushed him over the edge of the carrier he was on."

"And they didn't investigate it?"

He shook his head. "Nope."

"How long has it been?"

"About eight months."

"Jeez, that really sucks," Jen said sympathetically.

He looked at Jen intently for a moment. "To be honest, I've hated the Navy ever since."

"Well, I hope you don't hate everybody in the Navy just for that," she said.

He smiled slightly and shook his head. "Nah, not beautiful women like you."

Jen smiled. "Good to know, Alan." She still didn't have enough to get him on charges. It wasn't enough to hate the Navy, there was no crime in that. "Do you meet many people from the Navy?" she asked casually.

"Not here. Every few months someone will wander in here on leave. Not too many repeats."

"Repeats?"

"Most of them don't come back. Knowing that you're Navy, I'm surprised you did."

"I live kind of close. I don't need to wait until I get leave. Plus, I had fun last week, so I thought I'd come back."

Alan nodded. "I think you're the first one I've seen here more than once."

Jen smiled. "I guess I should be flattered that you noticed."

"You should be. You are a beautiful woman, Jen." He reached across the table and took hold of her hand.

Jen shivered at the contact. She didn't like this and she wanted it to be over with.

"You want to go dance some more?" he asked.

"Give me a minute," she said, smiling, as she took another sip of her drink.

He watched her closely, taking a swig of his beer.

"What do you do?" Jen asked, anything to keep him talking.

"I work in construction."

"Really?" Jen was surprised. He didn't look strong enough to work in construction.

"Yeah, I got into it after high school. It pays well, even if the hours are tough. And I get to be outside." He stopped and looked at Jen, who took another sip of her drink. "Do you get to work outside up at the naval base?"

"Sometimes," Jen answered. "When they let me."

"Don't you ever get annoyed by taking orders from others?" he asked.

"No," Jen answered. "Most of the people I work with are great. We are more than just coworkers. We're friends, too," she said happily.

"Friends?"

"Yeah," Jen nodded. "We'll have Christmas parties, birthday parties for kids, engagement parties when someone is getting married, things like that," she said casually as she sipped her drink.

He shook his head, "But they could leave at any time! Don't you resent the Navy for that?" he asked. He was getting angry.

"No. It is a part of our job. It's something we all accepted when we got into the Navy. It is a price we pay to serve our country. We go where we are needed. Just because we go in different directions, it doesn't mean we aren't friends. We can still stay in touch."

Alan sighed angrily. "I don't get it! You all seem so content with what you have, but you can't see what they take away! They took away my father!"

Jen shook her head softly, "Sometimes bad things happen."

Alan stood up, "Enough of this! Let's dance," he insisted, grabbing Jen's arm and pulling her to her feet.

Jen followed him out on to the dance floor. She was glad to be back in Mac's line of sight. She hadn't liked being behind her. And here, she could also be seen by Harm and Denise. For the first time since they had begun this mission, Jen was nervous. She hadn't liked his anger towards the Navy and she hadn't liked the way he pulled her into dancing again. Not to mention the alcohol in her drink. Alan led them to the far side of the dance floor, near the dark corner where the murders had taken place.

Jen danced with him for a song, two songs, and he didn't say a word. He backed her up, pressing her against the wall. He leaned against her, speaking into her ear, "Let's get out of here."

"I don't think so," Jen said, shaking her head.

"Come on. You know you want it."

"No," Jen said firmly.

He pressed against her. "You're just saying that. They must teach all of you women to say that in the Navy. You can still have fun," he said as his lips found her throat.

"I mean no," Jen said again, firmly. She didn't see what happened next because it happened so fast.

Harm yanked Alan off her. "The woman said no."

Mac was on the other side of him and pulled his arms behind him, struggling to get something out of his hands. She let out a yelp, but got what she was after.

Denise pulled a pair of handcuffs out of the back part of the waist of Harm's pants. Her dresses and skirts had never allowed for her to carry them, but as long as she wasn't far from Harm, she had access to them. And if she wasn't close by, Harm could use them to neutralize the threat. She snapped them onto his wrists, completely pulling him away from Jen.

Harm looked at Jen and asked, "You okay?"

She nodded, smiling weakly. "Thanks." She turned to Mac, who was gripping her wrist, face grimacing in pain. Blood was seeping out over her fingers. "You okay?"

Mac nodded. "Let's get him out of here."

Denise recited his rights, charging him with attempted rape, for the moment. The recording of the conversation and the knife in his hands was enough to get him for the time being. The rest would follow. They wanted to get him out of there. Alan was led out of the club between Harm and Denise. Mac followed, clutching her wrist and Jen followed behind her. People had noticed that something was going on and stepped back to watch the procession.

Outside, they met Pete and he helped them to hold Alan. Pete had already called back up and they would be there within two minutes. Sirens could already be heard around the corner, probably from a nearby squad car getting called in. Mac dropped the knife she had pulled from Alan's grasp into an evidence bag.

Harm looked at Mac and said, "Let me see it."

She pulled her hand off from her wrist and Harm blanched. Alan had managed to get a good swipe off on Mac, slicing her down the inside of her right wrist. Harm reached into his pocket and pulled out a handkerchief and wrapped it around her wrist, pulling it tight. "Hold it on there," he instructed, as if she needed it.

"Thanks," she said softly.

"You'll need stitches for that."

"I know," Mac said, smiling weakly. "You know you are going to have to tell people the story, let them know you were there, just so they don't think I was trying to kill myself."

"At least you haven't lost your sense of humor," Harm responded, smiling as well, throwing his arm over her shoulders and pulling her close. "Nice job, Marine."

"You didn't do so bad yourself, Sailor."

They both turned to look at Alan, who was struggling to get out of Denise and Pete's grasp. "You can't do this!" he yelled.

"We just did," Denise replied.

"I want a lawyer!"

They all laughed at this. Denise responded to him, "You're looking at two of them."

This shut Alan up. As a squad car rolled up, he seemed to realize that this was all real. Not only had he been caught, but he had been caught by two police officers and two lawyers.

Jen was standing off to the side, by herself. Mac ducked out of Harm's half-embrace and went over to her. "You okay?"

"Glad it's over. He was really scaring me."

"You did great, Jen. And we were all there. We weren't about to let anything happen."

"I know. I was just afraid that something would. And you got hurt," Jen pointed out.

"This?" Mac asked, holding up her wrist. "A few stitches and I'll be fine. I just want to make sure that you're okay."

"I'll be fine. I'm a little shaken up, but I'll be fine."

"I'm proud of you, Jen. We all are."

The new officers on the scene took hold of Alan and led him off to the squad car, securing him in the back. The group watched him, glad to be rid of him.

"Thanks. I'm just glad we got him."

"We all are," Mac agreed.

"What happened?" Jen asked. "It all happened so fast."

"We saw him lead you over to the corner, so Harm and Denise moved to dance nearby. I moved out onto the dance floor by myself, on the other side of Harm and Denise, keeping an eye on you. I saw it, and apparently Harm saw it, but Alan pulled out a knife, started bringing it up to your throat. And then Harm was on him and I grabbed his arms, and we got him."

"He wanted me to go with him. I kept saying no. Harm must have heard this, because he knew what he had been saying. And I keep thinking, what would have happened if you guys hadn't been there? Did they all say no? Is that why he killed them?"

"We'll probably never know that," Mac concluded. "But he'll never have the opportunity to do it again."

Jen nodded and Mac reached out to embrace her in a hug. Harm and Denise approached them. Denise spoke, "You guys will have to come down some time next week and help us close out the file. We'll have to give formal statements, fill out some paperwork, and all of that."

Harm asked, "Can we somehow find out what he says during interrogation?"

Denise nodded. "I believe that can be arranged. It will probably take a few days to get everything set up, get his lawyers in, bring up a full list of charges, but I'll see what I can do."

"Good," Harm nodded.

"I'm going to go with them, take him down to the station. Mac," she said, turning to her, "I'll be by and get my car some time in the near future, but I don't have anything at your place, so I won't disturb you."

Mac nodded.

Denise offered her hand to Jen, "Jen, it has been great working with you. You did an awesome job. Thanks for your assistance."

Jen shook her hand and smiled. "You're welcome."

Denise looked down at her feet before she spoke again. "You guys make a great team, all three of you. I'm sorry for the way some things turned out," she said, looking back and forth between Harm and Mac, "and some of the problems I may have caused, but we got our mission done and I appreciate your working with us."

Harm and Mac nodded.

"I'll call you. Mac, go get your wrist looked at. If you wait a couple minutes, we can get a police escort for you."

Mac smiled, "Not necessary. I'll go, but I don't need the escort."

Denise nodded and turned away, climbing into the front passenger seat of the squad car.

Harm turned to Mac, "You need a ride?"

Mac shook her head, "Not if Jen will drive me?" she questioned.

"Of course! I've always wanted to drive your car," Jen responded with a grin.

"Uh oh," Harm said, raising his eyebrows. "You're in trouble now."

Mac smiled. "Can't blame her."

"Are you sure you don't need anything?" Harm offered again.

"Go home. Get some sleep. Jen and I, we'll be okay."

Harm nodded. "I'll just walk you to your car."

"Always the gentleman," Mac said, rolling her eyes.

The three of them headed around to the front of the club and walked three blocks to Mac's car. Mac handed her keys over to Jen and they climbed into the car.

"Call me tomorrow," Harm said, "just to let me know you're all right."

Mac nodded. "'Night, Harm."

"'Night, Mac, Jen," Harm said as he moved away from the car. He watched for a moment, until Jen got the car moving and drove it off.

In the car, Mac said to Jen, "How about this? You take me to the hospital, I get my stitches, we go back to my place, crash, call the Admiral in the morning and beg off for Monday, and spend the rest of the day being goofy, which basically means that you laugh your ass off at me on painkillers."

"Does it hurt that bad?" Jen asked.

"Nah. But you know doctors, they always like to send you home with painkillers."

Jen smiled, "Then tomorrow sounds like a plan."

"Good," Mac laughed.


	15. Chapter 15

Mac's Apartment  
Georgetown  
Washington, D.C.  
Sunday, November 16, 2003  
1137 Hours (local)

Mac woke up to the sound of the phone ringing. She rolled over in her bed lazily and answered the phone. "MacKenzie," she mumbled.

"Mac? Are you okay?"

"Harm, do you know what time it is?" she asked, sleepily.

"1142."

"1137. Either way, it's too damn early."

"My watch must be fast… But are you okay?"

Mac yawned. "I was, until you woke me up."

"Everything okay at the hospital?"

"Yeah," Mac responded, nodding her head like he could see her. "They decided I wasn't a real emergency, that I wasn't going to bleed to death on the hospital floor, so they made me wait for an hour and a half. We probably could have driven all the way to Bethesda and gotten seen faster. We saw a guy come in with a gunshot wound and a bad car accident, drunk driver, go figure…" Mac went on.

"But you're okay?" Harm asked, interrupting her.

"I'll be fine. They stitched me up, gave me painkillers, and sent me home. I don't even really remember getting home, or what time it was."

"You must have really been out of it," he said, chuckling, finally realizing that she was going to be okay. "Sorry for waking you."

"It's okay. Listen, Jen and I were going to call the Admiral later and see if we can get off tomorrow. Why don't you do the same?"

"I've got court later in the morning, so I can't. But thanks for telling me. Now I won't freak out when I don't see you in the morning. Of course, the Admiral will be all out of sorts with his yeoman gone."

"He's a big boy. He'll live. And so will you," Mac said.

"I just wanted to make sure you were okay. I'll talk to you later, okay?"

"Yeah," Mac said, yawning again. She was awake now, so she would stay up.

"Let me know if I can do anything for you."

"I'll be fine. I'll talk to you later, Harm," Mac said as she hung up the phone. She stretched out lazily and climbed out of bed. She slipped silently out of her bedroom and into the living room. Jen was still sleeping soundly on the couch. Mac was relieved to know that the phone hadn't awakened her. Stepping into the kitchen, Mac got a pot of coffee going. It was somewhat annoying because of the pain and the brace on her wrist, but she managed. Nothing was going to keep her from getting her coffee.

She gazed out the window, thinking, while she waited. No matter what happened between them, she and Harm always found a way back to each other. They could say mean and hurtful things to each other, but when things got bad, they always wound up right back together. Take the time she left JAG to join the firm with Dalton. He was hurt and a little angry, but he was glad as hell to have her back at JAG. And when he left to go flying, she was hurt and angry, and she did hold it against him when he returned, but they still found themselves as friends. Even with Mic and Renee in the picture, they were friends, though not as close as they had been. Harm had been bound and determined to make it to her wedding, even if he didn't want her to marry Mic. He was going to see it through. And then his plane went down, her engagement dissolved, his relationship vanished, and they were still friends. Through the ups and downs, they stuck it out. Their relationship may not be a marriage, but they worked harder to keep it than some people did with their marriages. And perhaps now, with the case behind them, they would be able to move on, pick up their friendship once again, and maybe take it further.

Mac jumped, startled, as Jen entered the kitchen. "I smelled the coffee," she explained, yawning.

"Sorry," Mac grinned, sheepishly. "I was lost in thought."

"Anything interesting?" Jen asked.

"Nah," Mac said, shaking her head.

"How's your wrist?"

"Sore, but I'll live. Of course, it's my right hand, so doing anything is going to be difficult."

"Sounds like a perfect excuse to not work," Jen suggested.

Mac nodded. "Good point." The timer on the coffee machine beeped and Mac reached up to the cabinet to grab two mugs. Mac held one mug while Jen poured the coffee and when the first cup was filled, Mac placed it on the counter and held the second one for Jen to fill. They each added sugar and milk to their cups. Before they drank, Mac held up her mug in a toast, "Here's to team work. And catching the bad guy."

"To teamwork and catching the bad guy," Jen echoed, smiling broadly. They clinked their mugs together and calmly sipped their coffee.

xxxxx

D.C. Police Station  
Washington, D.C.  
Wednesday, November 19, 2003  
1343 Hours (local)

Mac and Jen had returned to work the previous day. Mac was limited in what she could do as long as she had the brace on her arm, which she was supposed to take off on Friday. She couldn't really write, but she could still type awkwardly. And she could still stand up in court and talk. But they had been invited to the D.C. Police Station to hear some of the questioning of Alan Canter. She and Harm were standing on one side of a one-way mirror. Alan and his attorney, plus two cops asking questions, were on the other side. She and Harm could see what was taking place, but couldn't be seen. Although, it was almost a sure bet that Alan knew they were there.

A background search on Alan had turned up information on his father. He had been killed while at sea on the Stennis. There had been an investigation, but two witnesses saw him take a leap and his roommate had said he was acting depressed and withdrawn. Alan, as it turned out, had a juvenile record, but it was sealed. His grades in school had been below average and his mother was cold and uncaring, not at all surprised by his actions.

Alan had been jittery and evasive during questioning. He had been reluctant to answer any questions. It took bringing up the Navy and his father to make him talk. The questioning of Alan had concluded, for the time being. He was being brought up on three counts of first-degree murder, one count of attempted murder, and one count of attempted rape. Even though none of the previous women had been raped, the recordings of Jen's conversation with him indicated that he was trying to force himself on her. At some point in the future, however, the attempted rape charge would probably be dropped.

Alan hated the Navy with a passion. He blamed anybody and everybody in the Navy for his father's death. He hadn't admitted to killing any of the women, but he didn't show any remorse, either. When questioned about pushing Jen towards leaving even when she said no, he said she wanted it, that when women said no, they meant yes. And when asked if women frequently said no to him, he responded, "Ones in the Navy do." That seemed to give him another reason to hate the Navy.

Jen was going to head back to the club to talk to some of the people she knew there, get contact information for the police, and see if any of them were willing to talk about Alan, to perhaps even testify against him. Harm, Mac, Jen, and Denise would probably be asked to testify as well to what happened that night they were at the club and Alan was arrested.

The friends and families of the three victims were finally going to get some closure and it looked as if Alan was going to be going away for a long time.

xxxxx

JAG Headquarters  
Falls Church, Virginia  
Tuesday, November 25, 2003  
1507 Hours (local)

Mac stood, leaning against the doorframe to Harm's office. He looked up from his work and caught her looking at him with a slight smile on her face. He smiled back to her and she spoke, "I understand you aren't coming in tomorrow?"

"Nope," he said, his grin widening.

"And what makes you so special that you get the day off?"

"I've got a flight to La Jolla tomorrow morning to spend the holiday with my mom and Frank."

Mac's smile grew and she nodded. "I'm glad to hear it."

"What about you?" he asked. "What are you doing for Thanksgiving?"

"Jen's coming over and we are going to pig out and watch some football. You know the players with their tight little buns in those tight pants," Mac said, laughing lightly.

Harm just shook his head, still smiling broadly. "Sounds like a plan."

"Well, you know that neither Jen nor I really have a family to go home to," Mac said softly, her face losing its smile.

"You will, someday," he said.

"You have fun out there," Mac said, a slight smile returning once more to her lips.

"You and Jen have fun watching the football players."

"We will," Mac said as she turned and left his office.

He left some time later, stopping by her office to say goodbye and wish her a happy Thanksgiving. Mac bid him the same and smiled sadly as she watched him go.

xxxxx

JAG Headquarters  
Falls Church, Virginia  
Friday, December 5, 2003  
1428 Hours (local)

Harm knocked on the doorframe of Mac's office. He held his cover and his briefcase in one hand, using the other to knock. They had been busy since their return from Thanksgiving and hadn't had a chance to talk much. They had talked about their Thanksgiving weekends, which both had enjoyed. Mac was able to relax and spend time with Jen, clean her apartment, and catch up on some reading. Harm had enjoyed visiting his mom and Frank and the peacefulness of the weekend, and the distance, had given him a new perspective on things.

Mac looked up at him, her concentrated face softening when she saw him. "Going somewhere?"

"I'm heading out for the day. I have things I need to do."

"Okay," Mac said, smiling. "Have a good weekend."

Harm didn't smile as he said, "You, too." The expression on his face hinted at sadness.

"Is everything okay?" Mac asked.

"Yeah," he nodded. He studied her for a moment, taking her in. "Everything's fine."

Mac nodded. "Drive safe."

"You, too," he responded as he turned and walked out the door.

Mac watched his progress across the bullpen. His back wasn't as straight, his gait wasn't as sure as it normally was. Something was wrong and he wasn't telling. Shrugging her shoulders, Mac got back to work.

xxxxx

Harm's Apartment  
North of Union Station  
Washington, D.C.  
Friday, December 5, 2003  
2044 Hours (local)

Mac knocked for the third time. Something had been eating at Harm since he returned from La Jolla. He hadn't been his usual self and Mac was determined to find out what it was. Finally, Harm opened the door. He just left it open to let her in, walking away back towards his bedroom. Mac followed him inside, shutting the door behind her. As usual, the place was immaculate. His bedroom, however, was another story. A large duffle bag and a suitcase were open on the bed, half-full of clothing and personal items. Also draped across his bed was a garment bag, already closed, full with what Mac assumed were his uniforms, as they weren't hanging in their usual place. Mac hesitated at the doorway to his bedroom, looking at the scene around her. "Where are you going?" she asked.

"Away."

"Where?"

"I'm not telling you. TAD." His tone wasn't angry. If it had any emotion at all, it was sadness.

"Did you request it?"

"No. The Admiral offered it to me. I accepted."

"Oh." Mac was silent for a minute. "Why?"

"Why am I leaving?"

"Yeah."

"I need time," he said, shutting his suitcase. "I need a chance to clear my head, get away from all of this."

"To get away from me?" Mac asked quietly.

Harm threw a few shirts into the duffle bag before he answered. He turned to look at Mac for a moment, and nodding, he answered just as quietly, "Yes."

"Were you going to tell me that you were leaving?"

Returning to the duffle bag, shoving his toiletries in he answered, "No."

"Why?"

Harm turned his steely gaze to her. "Why, Mac? We've beaten this poor dead horse to its second death. We've determined that we are headed for an explosion, one that could kill us both. I thought it would be best if I left."

"But why no goodbye?"

Harm held her gaze, though his expression softened and became sad. "I thought it would be easier this way, not seeing you one last time."

"Oh." Mac was still lingering in the doorway, unsure of what to do, and watched him pack his bag.

Finally he stopped and looked at her. He stepped close and traced the shape of her cheek with his thumb. "It wouldn't work. You know it and I know it. Maybe we could have, at one point, but we've done too much damage."

Mac nodded slightly and closed her eyes. She reveled in the feel of his hand and wished she could keep it there forever. She had gotten what she had come for, she had found the reason he had been so distant in the last week. She wasn't sure now what she wanted to say to him, what she could say to him. It had all been said in their recent arguments.

"I wish it didn't have to be like this, Mac. I wanted our happy ending. But this never was a fairytale."

Mac reopened her eyes. "Harm, I don't know what to say," she began, one tear slipping out of her eyes. "And I feel like I should ask you to stay, but I can't. You're right. Perhaps leaving is the best thing."

Harm nodded, offering her a sad smile.

Mac smiled weakly in return. She removed his hand from her face and put it between her breasts, just over her racing heartbeat. "You feel that? You have my heart, Harm, wherever you go."

"And you have mine."

"I want to know what it would be like, Harm. What we could be like. But it would hurt too much. I can't do it."

Harm removed his hand from her heart. "I know," he said. "That's why I didn't want the goodbye." His own eyes were watering. Who ever would have thought that doing the right thing would hurt so badly?

He bent low and gave Mac quick kiss on the lips. As he pulled away, she followed him, wanting more. And he provided. And for one moment, the world was theirs and they glimpsed heaven as his arms wrapped around her, pulling her close, and her arms pulled his head lower. But when they separated and looked into each other's eyes, they knew that heaven was being denied to them, perhaps for eternity.

"I love you, Harm," Mac said quietly.

"And I love you, Mac," Harm responded, just as quietly. He turned away and walked back to his bed and slowly zipped the last bag closed.

"When do you leave?" she asked, still standing in the doorway of the bedroom.

"Now," he said as he strode past her and down the short flight of steps. "I have a cab on the way to take me to Andrew's."

"Oh." She was silent again as he straightened up the kitchen and living areas. She descended the steps and stood on one side of the bar. "What about the trial for Alan Canter?"

"If I'm needed, I'll be back," he said. "Everything else is either wrapped up or you and Jen can handle it." Walking into the living room, he picked something up from the coffee table and moving towards the bar, he handed it to her. It was a picture of the two of them in Afghanistan in a wooden frame. "Keep it."

"Is it yours?" Mac asked.

Harm shook his head. "No. I got this one for you." She didn't need to know that he had gotten new glass for his when he got a new picture made for her. She didn't need to know that his was safely wrapped in his clothing, packed and tucked away in his suitcase, going with him.

"You didn't have to."

"I wanted to," he said softly, catching her eye.

"Thanks," she whispered. Mac was silent as she studied the picture, leaning against the bar. "When do you come back?"

"I don't know."

"Do you need me to do anything while you're gone?"

"Nope."

"Do you want me to come by every once in a while, just to check on the place?" She was desperate to hold on to something. She didn't want him to walk away like this.

"Nope."

Mac was heartbroken.

There was a knock at the door. Harm crossed the room to answer it.

"Harm?" Mac called weakly, her voice sounding distant.

He turned to gaze at her. There were tears in her eyes. This wasn't easy. "Mac, don't…" He paused for a moment as he took a step closer to her. "We both know it has to be this way."

She nodded mutely.

Harm turned back to the door and opened it, revealing the cab driver. "Rabb?"

Harm nodded. He turned back to Mac. "It's time."

Mac crossed the room and left the loft without looking at Harm. She had never even taken her coat off. She took the stairs down and said nothing. A moment later, outside the building, Harm and the cab driver caught up to her. They loaded Harm's bags into the trunk and the cab driver got back into the car. Harm opened the rear door and turned once more to Mac.

Neither of them knew what to say.

Mac broke the silence by saying, "I'll miss you."

Harm removed his hand from the door and moved closer to her. "I'll miss you, too, Mac. We had a good run."

Mac nodded, unable to hold back the tears. "Yes, we did." She stepped closer to him and wrapped her arms around his midsection, desperate to hold on to him for just a moment longer.

Harm responded by wrapping his arms around her, pulling her close. He could smell the shampoo in her hair. A gentle breeze lifted a few strands and tickled his nose, but did nothing to dry his own tears. This time, Mac wasn't the only one crying. Finally, he let go and slipped into the cab, whispering, "Goodbye, Sarah," as he pulled the door shut behind him.

"Goodbye, Harmon," Mac whispered, just before the door was pulled shut.

The cab pulled away from the curb. Harm couldn't bear to look back at the woman he was leaving behind. He couldn't stand to see her tears, to see the pain etched onto her face, read the regret in her eyes. If he really wanted to see all of that, he could look in the mirror because his own face told the same story.

Mac stood in the darkness and watched the cab drive away. She watched it until the taillights disappeared in the darkness and she was alone on the corner, alone with her tears. She slowly wandered back to her car and leaned against the hood, unwilling to go back to her apartment. She wasn't ready to let go yet, wasn't willing to let go of him.

Somewhere, Mac heard a song playing in the distance. It may have been from an open window, even though the weather was cold, or it may have been from somebody's car. Or, perhaps, the music played just for her. But the more she listened to the song, the harder the tears fell because the words were so true.

After many long minutes, she climbed slowly into her car and pulled away to drive to her place. It wasn't home. Home wasn't made up so much of where you lived and what you owned, but rather who you shared your life with, and a large part of her life had just disappeared. He had just walked away.

To nobody in particular, Mac asked the question to which there was no answer, "How the hell did we wind up like this?"

xxxxx

"Someday" by _Nickelback_ , from their album The Long Road (2003).

How the hell did we wind up like this  
Why weren't we able  
To see the signs that we missed  
And try to turn the tables  
I wish you'd unclench your fists  
And unpack your suitcase  
Lately there's been too much of this  
Don't think its too late

Nothing's wrong  
just as long as  
you know that someday I will

Someday, somehow  
I'm gonna make it all right but not right now  
I know you're wondering when  
(You're the only one who knows that)  
Someday, somehow  
I'm gonna make it all right but not right now  
I know you're wondering when

Well I hoped that since we're here anyway  
We could end up saying  
Things we've always needed to say  
So we could end up staying  
Now the story's played out like this  
Just like a paperback novel  
Lets rewrite an ending that fits  
Instead of a Hollywood horror

Nothing's wrong  
just as long as  
you know that someday I will

Someday, somehow  
I'm gonna make it all right but not right now  
I know you're wondering when  
(You're the only one who knows that)  
Someday, somehow  
I'm gonna make it all right but not right now  
I know you're wondering when  
(You're the only one who knows that)

 _[Solo]_

How the hell did we wind up like this  
Why weren't we able  
To see the signs that we missed  
And try to turn the tables  
Now the story's played out like this  
Just like a paperback novel  
Lets rewrite an ending that fits  
Instead of a Hollywood horror

Nothing's wrong  
just as long as  
you know that someday I will

Someday, somehow  
I'm gonna make it all right but not right now  
I know you're wondering when  
(You're the only one who knows that)  
Someday, somehow  
I'm gonna make it all right but not right now  
I know you're wondering when  
(You're the only one who knows that)  
I know you're wondering when  
(You're the only one who knows that)  
I know you're wondering when

xxxxx

 **AN: Thank you for those of you who stuck with this story all the way through to the end. I know it is an angsty one. It's not that I don't like happy endings, but I just didn't see a happy ending for this one. That being said, I did write a sequel to this one. I don't think that story is nearly as good, very cliche and predictable. If I were to write a sequel to this one now, it would be very, very different. But I haven't been able to watch the show in forever and really don't have a feel for these characters anymore, so I'm stuck with the sequel I wrote years ago. I may end up posting it in a few weeks, since I do like happy endings, and this one is not a happy ending, but I'm leaving on vacation in a few days and dino-laptop does not travel with me. Again, thank you for sticking with it and double thanks for those of you who reviewed.**


End file.
